THE TURTLE DOVE. 



GRANVILLE OSBORNE 



In and out the leafy shade 

 Of the peaceful glen and glade, 

 Where the brook goes rippling by, 

 Through the cowslip meadow nigh; 

 When the soft and odorous breeze 

 Whispers gently 'mongst the trees, 

 Lovingly, I hear them woo — 

 ''Coo goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-o-o." 



Bows and bridles proudly he. 

 Coyly shy and modest she; 

 Hither, yon, in ceaseless quest, 

 'Till they build a cozy nest; 

 Full of watchful care is he, 

 When there comes maternity; 

 Never lover's song so true 

 ''' Coo- goo-roo-o-o, Coo- goo-roo-o-o." 



Now so proud he tabers low, 



To his loving mate below; 



Never lover so in love, 



As this billing, cooing dove. 



Back and forth he quickly flies 



With his generous supplies, 



Then he nods, "There, that will do — 



"Coo-goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-o-o." 



Beautiful, the little brood 

 Blesses faithful motherhood. 

 And the lessons they impart. 

 Doves and nestlings, reach my heart. 

 What the wisdom from the dove? 

 That the best of life is "love." 

 So I listen while they coo — 

 " Coo-goo-roo-o-o, Coo-goo-roo-oo." 



THE SORROWFUL TREE. 



THERE is a tree in Paris to which 

 the name "The Sorrowful Tree" 

 is given. Perhaps because it 

 blooms only in the evening. 

 When the first star appears in the 

 heavens, the first bud of the Sorrowful 

 Tree opens, and as the shades of night 

 advance and the stars thickly stud the 

 sky, the buds continue gradually open- 

 ing until the whole tree looks like one 

 immense white flower. On the ap- 

 proach of dawn, when the brilliancy of 

 the stars gradually fades away in the 

 light of day, the Sorrowful Tree closes 

 its flowers, and ere the sun is fully 

 risen not a single blossom is visible. 

 A sheet of flower dust, as white as 



snow, covers the ground around the 

 foot of the tree, which seems blighted 

 and withered during the day, while, 

 however, it is actively preparing for 

 the next nocturnal festival. The fra- 

 grance of the blossom is like that of 

 the evening primrose. 



If the tree is cut down close to the 

 roots a new plant shoots up and attains 

 maturity in an incredibly short time. 



In the vicinity of this singular tree 

 there usually grows another, which is 

 almost an exact counterpart of the 

 Sorrowful Tree, but less beautiful, and, 

 strange to say, it blooms only in the 

 daytime. 



MARKED WITH BLEEDING HEARTS. 



IN one of the cages at Lincoln Park 

 are two pigeons or doves most pe- 

 culiarly marked. They belong to 

 the variety known as the "Bleed- 

 ing Heart." 



Their backs and wings are of a bluish 

 slate color, while their breasts are white, 

 save for a spot of vivid crimson in the 

 center. This spot is precisely like 

 the stain which would be produced by a 

 wound. It is about an inch in length. 



and the color fades out at the edges 

 softly in little streaks. 



One can scarcely believe the little 

 creatures are not victims of some cruel 

 thrust, and the park employes say that 

 lovesick people are wont to lean for 

 hours on the railing opposite the cage, 

 and, fixing their sad eyes on the birds, 

 will moan in sympathy while they shed 

 bitter tears. 



