mouths wide open, and anything dropped within disappeared as quickly as a nickel in the slot.
One Sunday morning before I had gotten up I was awakened by a great noise in the yard. The doves were scolding, the Sir Cock-a-doodle was ca-da-cuting in his deep voice, and Master Frisky was barking. I ran to the window and looked out, and at first could see nothing strange; but finally I looked up to the dove-cote, and there was Dandy peeking in at the door (with hungry eyes), while Bennie was darting at him savagely. I shouted, and he ran down the pole and hid under the barn.
It was an eventful day when Dodo and Bennie brought the children from the house and taught them to fly. The young doves were very much afraid, and would not venture for a long time. Bennie coaxed and coaxed, and would fly across to the limb of a tree a few feet away to show how easy it was, until at last one of them spread his wings and flopped across. But he flew too low; and instead of lighting upon the limb, he flopped and fluttered to the ground. As he did so a white figure shot out from the shed. "Dandy," I cried, "let the dove alone," and he went back. As soon as the doves learned to fly they thought it great sport, and would go about from shed to post, but always returned to the dove-cote.
Even now as I write, they are flying about in great glee; and Dodo and Bennie, the proudest mother and father, are watching them.
