MOURNING DOVE 
Called also: Carolina Dove 
T^O NOT waste any sympathy on this in- 
cessant love-maker that slowly sings 
coo-o-o, ah-coo-o-o-ooo-o-o-ooo-o-o, in a sweetly 
sad voice. Really he is no more melan- 
choly than the plaintive pewee but, on the 
contrary, is so happy in his love that his de- 
votion has passed into a proverb. Neverthe- 
less, the song he sings to his “turtle dove” 
sounds more like a dirge than a rapture. While 
she lives, there is no more contented bird in the 
woods. 
Dove lovers are quite self-sufficient. Their 
larger cousins, the wild pigeons, that once were 
so abundant, depended on friends for much of 
their happiness and lived in enormous flocks. 
Now only a few pairs survive in this land of 
liberty to refute the adage “ In union there is 
strength.” Because millions of pigeons slept 
in favourite roosts many miles in extent, they 
were all too easily netted, and it did not take 
greedy men long to turn the last flock into cash. 
Happily, doves preserved their race by scat- 
tering in couples over a wide area — from 
23s 
