Transcriber’s Note:

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

Princess Sukey.

Princess Sukey THE STORY OF A PIGEON AND HER HUMAN FRIENDS

LIST OF CHAPTERS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I The Pigeon Princess

Dear little Princess Sukey sitting by the fire—pretty little pigeon—of what is she thinking as she dreamily eyes the blazing wood? If a pigeon could review its past life, what she has of bird mind would be running back over the series of adventures that she had ere she established herself in this well ordered household.

Has she any mentality of her own, or are all pigeons stupid as has been said? Listen to her story, and judge for yourself.

To begin with—she is not a common street pigeon like those who are looking in the window, and who are probably envying her the silk cushion on which she sits, her china bath, her lump of rock salt, and her box of seeds. For it is a bitterly cold day. The wind is blowing fiercely, the thermometer is away below zero, and the ground is covered with snow. In summer these same street pigeons seem to be laughing at the pigeon princess on account of the abnormal life that she leads, but just now they certainly would change places with her.

The princess is a Jacobin—a thoroughbred, with a handsome hood that nearly hides her head, a fine mane and chain, and her colors are red and white.

Her parents were beauties—show birds with perfect points, and they were owned by a young pigeon fancier of the small city of Riverport, Maine.

The lad’s name was Charlie Brown, and he had a friend called Titus Sancroft, or, more familiarly, “Stuttering Tite,” from an unfortunate habit that he had formed of catching his breath at the beginning of nearly every sentence he uttered.

Now, young Titus walked most opportunely into Charlie’s pigeon loft just a day after Princess Sukey had been hatched.

Just before he came in the clock struck four. A male pigeon always helps the female in the work of incubation, and bringing up the young ones. About ten o’clock every morning the mother pigeon leaves her eggs, goes to get something to eat, and walks about the loft with the other pigeons—a pigeon rarely plays; even young ones are phlegmatic. As she comes off her nest the male pigeon goes on and sits there till four in the afternoon. Then the female returns for the night.

Well, the young princess was a sickly pigeon. There had been two sickly pigeons, for usually two eggs are laid at a time. One had died, and the father Jacobin, thinking that the young Sukey was also going to die, took her in his beak, lifted her from the nest, and gently deposited her on the floor at the other end of the loft.

There is little sentiment among birds. They believe in the survival of the fittest, and the weak are calmly taken from the nest.

The young pigeon was not desperately ill. However, blind and naked as she was, she could not have survived long, away from the warmth of the nest, unless this boy Titus had discovered her.

“H-h-hello, Charlie,” he stuttered, “here’s a squab out of the nest.” Charlie took the bird by the legs.

“W-w-what are you going to do?” asked Titus.

“Strike its head against the wall.”

Titus did not approve of this.

“Wh-why don’t you put it back in the nest?” he asked, excitedly.

“No good—once the old ones put it out they won’t look at it.”

“C-c-can’t you feed it?”

“Too much trouble. I did have some birds that would feed young ones—two fine old feeders, but I sold them.”

Titus had a mercenary little soul. “A-a pity to throw away good money,” he said, looking at the pigeon. “I-I should think you could worry some food down its throat yourself.”

“I could, but it’s an awful bother. I’ve tried it. This is a sick thing anyway. It will be dead in five minutes. See how it’s gasping.”

“B-b-bet you my jackknife it won’t die,” replied Titus.

So they waited five minutes, and, as good fortune would have it, the future princess gasped them out, and Charlie laid her in Titus’s palm. “The squab is yours.”