BY WILLIAM G. BARTON. 



63 



pigeons formidable rivals. To the boy the pigeon is a 

 pretty pet ; to the man it becomes the object of deep 

 thought, of persevering training, and of patient experi- 

 ment. 



Yes ! to the boy, pigeons are the royal pets ; and 

 thereafter, the caged squirrel, the penned-up toad, the 

 tethered tortoise, lose their charm. Captives are they 

 yet at liberty, and such a liberty not of the earth, but 

 of the heavens. They wander, not to catch grasshoppers 

 in the mowing lot, but to soar with exultant freedom into 

 the skies, still, as their proud owner knows, bound 

 fast to the loft by the ties of home. To the urchin every- 

 thing winged and hard to catch has especial charms, 

 whether butterfly, bat, or bird. And the craving for pos- 

 session grows so strong, that the black-barred, blue-check- 

 ered, brick-red-checkered, white, or variously pied, com- 

 mon pigeons of our streets and yards are enticed into the 

 noose or under the sieve, if only for the short-lived pleasure 

 of holding in the hand that throbbing form which just now 

 cleaved the air, or of pressing to the cheek or lips the soft 

 wing which has whistled so often overhead. The rapture 

 felt, when the coop is being prepared ; when the first live 

 pigeons are owned ; at the discovery of the first white 

 egg ; or at the return of the birds after their taste and 

 test of liberty, only those who have felt it know. The 

 speaker recalls the time when, although then opposed as 

 now both from inclination and principle to early rising, he 

 hastened to his loft at five in the morning, where seated on 

 a hard box he spent an hour or two in watching the indoor 

 habits of his pigeons. Sometimes I carried on evening 

 observations by lantern light. Even now, I occasionally see 

 in dreams such ideal pigeons as are figured in the books, 

 and with that light upon their feathers which never was on 

 sea or land. 



