Arnaux 
eon-doors and stand ready to shut that behind 
the first arrival. 
I shall never forget the sensations of that 
day. I had been warned: ‘“ They start at 12; 
they should be here at 12:30; but look out, 
they come like a whirlwind. You hardly see 
them till they ’re in.” 
We were ranged along the inside of the loft, 
each with an eye to a crack or a partly closed 
pigeon-door, anxiously scanning the southwest- 
ern horizon, when one shouted: ‘‘ Look out— 
here they come!” Like a white cloud they 
burst into view, low skimming over the city 
roofs, around a great chimney pile, and in two 
seconds after first being seen they were back. 
The flash of white, the rush of pinions, were all 
so sudden, so short, that, though preparing, I 
was unprepared. I was at the only open door. 
A whistling arrow of blue shot in, lashed my 
face with its pinions, and passed. I had hardly 
time to drop the little door, as a yell burst 
from the men, “ Arnaux! Arnaux! I told you 
he would. Oh, he’s a darling; only three 
months old and a winner—he’sa little dar- 
ling!” and Arnaux’s owner danced, more 
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