The Love Element in Bird Protection 143 



with its bill for kernels of wheat held in my 

 clasped hand. I, alas, had not heard in those days 

 about Mahomet having something to eat in his 

 ear when the multitude saw pigeons lighting on 

 his shoulder to whisper to him, or I might also 

 have gone into the prophet business. It's rank 

 exaggeration to say of any thing that it's worth 

 its weight in gold, but that was my estimate of 

 my pet. It was never caged, but was left free to 

 go and come, and it did both. It found its own 

 kind and might spend a half day in the fields with 

 other doves but always came home to roost. Many 

 a time when bringing water from the well a hun- 

 dred yards from the house, in the evening, it 

 would come sweeping back and flutter along before 

 my face pretending to be after corn from between 

 my teeth. My older sisters said that I was a sissy 

 and had taught it to kiss me. Perhaps I had not 

 explained all of Mourny's tricks to them. I had 

 been holding bags for a neighbor who had just 

 finished thrashing and a lot of grain had been left 

 around where the thrashing machine had stood 

 and I had salvaged a big pocketful for Mourny 

 and it was under my very eye having a feast in 

 the open passage-way between the kitchen and 

 wood-house, when coming from nowhere, a 

 strange black and white torn cat launched itself 

 on the unsuspicious Dove and killed it in one sec- 

 ond. Sir Thomas clearly thought he was getting 



