The White Pigeon 



W* I FOUND THAT LIFE ABOUND THIS 



marsh hotel certainly was not a continuous series of startling 

 and exciting adventures. The days sometimes passed with a 

 certain degree of smoothness, with no highlights and an al- 

 most monotonous regularity as far as conspicuous activity 

 was concerned. But there were many smaller incidents and 

 episodes which always go on where wild or human life con- 

 gregates, and in which I found much to occupy my attention. 

 I refer to the matters connected with the daily routine of 

 the residents and visitors, to their family affairs, their squab- 

 bles, and experiences. Incidents of this sort form a remark- 

 ably revealing portrait of the marsh scene. 



There was the episode of the white pigeon, which began 

 to pay daily visits to the canoehouse. Where it came from 

 is of no particular consequence, but I assume that it was one 

 of a band of about two hundred which had become wild and 

 nested on adjacent buildings and which kept fat from the 

 pickings on the nearby sanitary fill. I watched it as it walked 

 up and down the roof of a small shed. 



"You're feeding it, aren't you?" I said to the manager. 



"How did you know?" 



85 



