directions through the meadow. Sometimes they pulled wild flowers,
if marked by more than ordinary beauty, or gathered the wild mint and
meadow-sweet to perfume their dairy, or culled the flowery woodbine to
shed its delicate fragrance through their sleeping-rooms. In fact, all
their habits and amusements were pastoral, and simple, and elegant. Jane
accompanied them as they strolled about, but was principally engaged
with her pet, which flew, in capricious but graceful circles over her
head, and occasionally shot off into the air, sweeping in mimic flight
behind a green knoll, or a clump of trees, completely out of her sight;
after which it would again return, and folding its snowy pinions, drop
affectionately upon her shoulder, or into her bosom. In this manner they
proceeded for some time, when the dove again sped off across the river,
the bank of which was wooded on the other side. Jane followed the
beautiful creature with a sparkling eye, and saw it wheeling to return,
when immediately the report of a gun was heard from the trees directly
beneath it, and the next moment it faltered in its flight, sunk, and
with feeble wing, struggled to reach the object of its affection. This,
however, was beyond its strength. After sinking gradually towards the
earth, it had power only to reach the middle of the river, into the
deepest part of which it fell, and there lay fluttering upon the stream.

The report of the gun, and the fate of the pigeon, brought the
personages of our little drama with hurrying steps to the edge of the
river. One scream of surprise and distress proceeded from the lips of
its fair young mistress, after which she wrung her hands, and wept and
sobbed like one in absolute despair.

"Oh, dear William," she exclaimed, "can you not rescue it? Oh, save
it--save it; if it sinks I will never see it more. Oh, papa, who could
be so cruel, so heartless, as to injure a creature so beautiful and