THE PIGEON. 83 



Uttered with an inspiration of the breath, as if the af- 

 flicted creature were just recovering its voice from the 

 last convulsive sobs of distress ; this is followed by 

 three long, deep, and mournful moanings, that no per- 

 son of sensibility can listen to without sympathy. A 

 pause of a few moments ensues ; and again the voice 

 of sorrow is renewed as before." 



But these doleful tones are not the notes of distress, 

 but of affection. They are the language of love and 

 contentment, which these faithful birds utter towards 

 each other. 



Turtle Doves, to a certain extent, are birds of pas- 

 sage. They leave the northern and middle states on 

 the approach of winter, and retire to the warmer cli- 

 mate of the southern states, where they spend the cold 

 season, and return to the north again in the spring. 



These birds make a peculiar whistling noise with 

 their wings when they fly, and particularly when they 

 rise and light, and by this they may always be known 

 from the pigeons. They sit on trees, fences, or on the 

 ground, as is most convenient, or as they are invited 

 by the prospect of food. They build their nests on 

 trees, generally preferring an evergreen, for that pur- 

 pose. It is composed of a handful of twigs laid to- 

 gether with little art and lined on the inside with dried 

 roots and leaves. The eggs are two in number, and 

 almost as white as snow. The two birds, like the pi- 

 geons, unite in feeding and taking care of the young. 



The flesh of this Dove is much superior to that of 

 the pigeon ; but its gentleness, its innocence, and beau- 

 ty, together with the tenderness of its notes, are itg 

 protection, except with those whose appetites are 



