1 10 About the Feathered Folk. 



and had wheeled him on to the 

 asphalte path, where he could sit 

 and stare at the flowers. 



She herself, a rough - headed, 

 bright-eyed lassie, darted off to 

 play at some mysterious girlish 

 game with half a dozen kindred 

 souls. 



He sat quietly enough, but I 

 noticed that he leaned back as far 

 as possible in his awkward little 

 chair, scanning the towering plinths 

 and pillars above him with eager 

 eyes. His was a pale little face, 

 and bore the deeply-lined marks of 

 disease and of pain. I saw the 

 next minute that the unequal 

 shoulders and helpless limbs were 

 those of a cripple. 



Presently, with that soft sound 

 of "winnowing" wings that is so 

 pleasant to hear, a Pigeon flew down 

 to him, perching on his eagerly out- 

 stretched arm without an instant's 

 hesitation. 



