. My pets; real happenings in my aviary . My Pets meadow ran a beautiful little river. We could hearthe birds the farmers called meadow-hens laughingdown there all day long, and at night the legions offrogs kept up an harmonious chant of Rain, rain,rain! Along the river banks were lovely wild flowersand thick shrubbery. I imagined that the gallinulewould have a delightful time in this dense covert,and as he had been clever enough to find his way toNova Scotia from Mexico or Georgia, perhaps,when autumn came, he might be clever enough tofind his way back. So I took the other gallinuleand carrie
. My pets; real happenings in my aviary . My Pets meadow ran a beautiful little river. We could hearthe birds the farmers called meadow-hens laughingdown there all day long, and at night the legions offrogs kept up an harmonious chant of Rain, rain,rain! Along the river banks were lovely wild flowersand thick shrubbery. I imagined that the gallinulewould have a delightful time in this dense covert,and as he had been clever enough to find his way toNova Scotia from Mexico or Georgia, perhaps,when autumn came, he might be clever enough tofind his way back. So I took the other gallinuleand carried him out to the bank overhanging themeadow. I threw him high up in the air, and hesank down from my sight among the violets andlong grass of the hillside. From what I knew of his habits, I concluded thathe would hide there till night came, then make hisway to the river, I hoped that he would find BeautyNumber One, and many times since I have thoughtthat I would give a very great deal to know the ulti-mate fate of my two gallinules. no \. CHAPTER XII FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH PIGEONS SOON after starting my aviary in Halifax, I be-gan to think of keeping pigeons. I had alwaysadmired the tame birds about the streets, but I hadnever studied them. I knew nothing whatever oftheir habits, except that I had once heard a womanwhose husband kept a stable, say that it was perfect-ly surprising to see the way in which great fatyoung pigeons that had grown to be as large as theirparents, would follow these same parents about andmake them put food down their throats. Some one told me of a young man who kept fancypigeons in Halifax, and one day my sister and Icalled on him. His birds were mostly white, and as III My Pets I stood looking at this first collection of pigeons thatI had ever intelligently examined, I was consciousof a feeling almost of ecstasy. Only those personswho are bird-lovers can understand this peculiardelight in the mere contemplation of the restless,beautiful creatures. Bi
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