Alice and the Pigeon

by T.S. Arthur

　　

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One evening in winter as Alice, a dear little girl whom everybodyloved, pushed aside the curtains of her bedroom window, she saw themoon half hidden by great banks of clouds, and only a few starspeeping out here and there. Below, the earth lay dark, and cold. Thetrees looked like great shadows.There was at change in her sweet face as she let fall the curtainand turned from the window."Poor birds!" she said."They are all safe," answered her mother, smiling. "God has providedfor every bird a place of rest and shelter, and each one knows whereit is and how to find it. Not many stay here in the winter time, butfly away to the sunny south, where the air is warm and the treesgreen and fruitful.""God is very good," said the innocent child. Then she knelt withfolded hands, and prayed that her heavenly further would blesseverybody, and let his angels take care of her while she slept. Hermother's kiss was still warm upon her lips as she passed into theworld of pleasant dreams.In the morning, when Alice again pushed back the curtains from herwindow, what a sight of wonder and beauty met her eyes! Snow hadfallen, and everything wore a garment of dazzling whiteness. In theclear blue sky, away in the cast, the sun was rising; and as hisbeams fell upon the fields, and trees, and houses, every objectglittered as if covered all over with diamonds.But only for a moment or two did Alice look upon this beautifulpicture, for a slight movement drew her eyes to a corner of thewindow-sill, on the outside, and there sat a pigeon close againstthe window-pane, with its head drawn down and almost hidden amongthe feathers, and its body shivering with cold. The pigeon did notseem to be afraid of her, though she saw its little pink eyeslooking right into her own."O, poor, dear bird!" she said in soft, pitying tones, raising thewindow gently, so that it might not be frightened away. Then shestepped back and waited to see if the bird would not come in. Pigeonraised its brown head in a half scared away; turned it to this sideand to that; and after looking first at the, comfortable chamber andthen away at the snow-covered earth, quietly hopped upon the sillinside. Next he flew upon the back of a chair, and then down uponthe floor."Little darling," said Alice, softly. Then she dressed herselfquickly, and went down stairs for some crumbs of bread, which shescattered on the floor. The pigeon picked them up, with scarcely asign of fear.As soon as he had eaten up all the crumbs, he flew back towards thewindow and resting on the sill, swelled his glossy throat and cooedhis thanks to his little friend. After which darted away, themorning sunshine glancing from wings.A feeling of disappointment crept into the heart of Alice as thebird swept out of sight. "Poor little darling!" she sighed. "If hehad only known how kind I would have been, and how safe he was here,what nice food and pure water would have been given, he wouldn'thave flown away."When Alice told about the visit of pigeon, at breakfast time, apleasant surprise was felt by all at the table. And they talked of,doves and wood-pigeons, her father telling her once or two nicestories, with which she was delighted. After breakfast, her mothertook a volume from the library containing Willis's exquisite poem,"The little Pigeon," and gave it to Alice to read. She soon knew itall by heart.A great many times during the day Alice stood at the open door, orlooked from the windows, in hope of seeing the pigeon again. On adistant house-top, from which the snow had been melted or blownaway, or flying through the air, she would get sight of a bird nowand then; but she couldn't tell whether or not it was the white andbrown pigeon she had sheltered and fed in the morning. But justbefore sundown, as she stood by the parlor window, a cry of joy fellfrom her lips. There was the pigeon sitting on a fence close by, andlooking, it seemed to her, quite forlorn.Alice threw open the window, and then ran into the kitchen for somecrumbs of bread. When she came back, pigeon was still on the fence.Then she called to him, holding out her her hand scattering a fewcrumbs on the window-sill. The bird was hungry and had sharp eyes,and when he saw Alice he no doubt remembered the nice meal she hadgiven him in the morning, in a few moments he flew to the window,but seemed half afraid. So Alice stood a little back in the room,when he began to pick up the crumbs. Then she came nearer andnearer, holding out her hand that was full of crumbs, and as soon aspigeon had picked up all that was on the sill, he took the rest ofhis evening meal from the dear little girl's hand. Every now andthen he would stop and look up at his kind friend, as much as tosay, "Thank you for my nice supper. You are so good!" When he hadeaten enough, he cooed a little, bobbed his pretty head, and thenlifted his wings and flew away.He did not come back again. At first Alice, was disappointed, butthis soon wore off, and only a feeling of pleasure remained."I would like so much to see him and feed him," she said. "But Iknow he's better off and happier at his own home, with a nice placeto sleep in and plenty to eat, than sitting on a window-sill allnight in a snow storm." And then she would say over that sweet poem,"The City Pigeon," which her mother had given her to get by heart.Here it is, and I hope every one of my little readers will get it byheart also:--"Stoop to my window, thou beautiful dove!

　　Thy daily visits have touched my love.

　　I watch thy coming, and list the note

　　That stirs so low in thy mellow throat,

　　And my joy is high

　　To catch the glance of thy gentle eye."Why dost thou sit on the heated eaves,

　　And forsake the wood with its freshened leaves?

　　Why dost thou haunt the sultry street,

　　When the paths of the forest are cool and sweet?

　　How canst thou bear

　　This noise of people--this sultry air?"Thou alone of the feathered race

　　Dost look unscared on the human face;

　　Thou alone, with a wing to flee,

　　Dost love with man in his haunts to be;

　　And the 'gentle dove'

　　Has become a name for trust and love."A holy gift is thine, sweet bird!

　　Thou'rt named with childhood's earliest word!

　　Thou'rt linked with all that is fresh and wild

　　In the prisoned thoughts of the city child;

　　And thy glossy wings

　　Are its brightest image of moving things."It is no light chance. Thou art set apart,

　　Wisely by Him who has tamed thy heart,

　　To stir the love for the bright and fair

　　That else were sealed in this crowded air

　　I sometimes dream

　　Angelic rays front thy pinions stream."Come then, ever, when daylight leaves

　　The page I read, to my humble eaves,

　　And wash thy breast in the hollow spout,

　　And murmur thy low sweet music out!

　　I hear and see

　　Lessons of heaven, sweet bird, in thee!"

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