I'm a captive now.
Oh that I were roaming still
Through the wild woods of Brazil!


JANE OLIVER.




[Illustration]

WHAT THE DOVE LOST.


Uncle Tom was walking slowly down the street, one sunny day, when he saw
a boy put his hand into a paper bag, take out a lemon, and throw it at a
plump gray pigeon that was trying to pick up some crumbs which had been
thrown out.

Poor little pigeon! He had been fluttering, off and on, over the
crumbs,--now scared away by a fast trotting-horse, now flying to a
door-post to get rid of some rapid walker,--and had only just alighted
to pick up his breakfast, when he was struck right in the back by the
bullet-like lemon.

Uncle Tom ran as quickly as he could, and took the panting little thing
up in his hand very gently. Just then the horse-car came along; and
uncle jumped into it, saying to himself, "I'll take this pigeon out to
little Emily. How she will dance and skip when she sees it!"