xii PREFACE 



who sits all day alone in the great red horse-chestnut. 

 His story is a sad one. On a cold March day, twelve 

 months ago, a ring-dove appeared no one knows whence 

 and timidly presented himself outside the garden porch. 

 The bird was lame and hungry, and very shy; but 

 after three weeks of persevering attention from us, he 

 grew fat and tame, and came regularly to feed with 

 the pigeons. Very soon he found a mate, and brought 

 her also with him to feed. Then they made a nest 

 in the red chestnut tree, and in due time the pair 

 brmight a fine young one to be admired and fed at 

 the door. Then all three flew away to the woods. 

 Again, last March, the Dove reappeared one day, and 

 his mate was with him and the young one too. But 

 they only stayed a day, and never returned. And 

 now the widowed dove sits all day in the chestnut 

 tree, and calls and calls. From early morning till 

 late afternoon the plaintive cry is heard: the poor 

 bird is forsaken, and it is plain that life for him has 

 lost its interest. Another song comes now and again 

 from far off among the leaves; and as I listen to 



