The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-03-15

niS piece Ot WOOu II hdd UCcu dlloWCo to grow freely and had attained great height Myriads of. flowers, vetch, clover, mouse ear and sweet william .hrove there in abundance. Whenever came to this spot with my sister or the maid servant carried home whole arm fuls but when in the company of my father did not think of picking flowers. I considered that occupation unbecoming a sportsman.
 Suddenly Tresor came to a stop. My father made signal to me to be cautious. Right in front of Tresor hen-quail rose and flew away. But she flew in straight manner, turning and tumbling over and over again in the air, and then falling to the ground as if she had been wounded.
 Tresor made for her as last as possible "a thing he never did when the bird flew in its regular manner.
 My father could not take aim for fear of hitting the dog. Presently Tresor made sudden dash, and before we knew it had seized the quail, and brought her to my father My father took the bird from him and laid i, on it's back or the palm of his hand. ran up 10 him.
 ," Whats the matter" cried. Is she wounded: :"
 No" replied my father she must, however, have her nest with her little ones close by. She acted as if she was wounded so tha, the dog might think he could catch her easily
 - Why did she do so:
 :. In order to divert the dogs attention from her little ones; after which. if she had succeeded, she would not have flown away. But this time she has missed her lttle game. and Tresor has caught her"
 Then she is not hit..' inquired again.
 No bu, she won't live, Tresor mus, have injured her with his teeth
 stepped nearer to have better look at the quail. She rested motionless on the palm ef my fathers hand her head was dropping and her black eye looked q, me sideways. All al once feeling of pity overcame me. IL seemed to me as If the poor little bird regarded me, and thought Why must diet Why: Have I not done my duty: l tried to save my little ones; to draw the dogs attention away from them. and here am a cap tive. An, me. Poor me. This Is not just no. no, il IS not just .''
 Papa, perhaps she will not die" cried, trying to caress the little birds head.
 My father answered
 She'll die. Look In another mo- ment her legs will stlfien, her body will ,remblc. and her eyes will close
 Indeed. that what did happen before long. When her eyes closed began to cry
 Well, what's the natter" my father exclaimed, almos, langhingly.
 pity her." replied She did her duty and she has been killed. IL IS not lust"
 She wanted to play decei,ful game, my father answered, but Tresor was too smart for her"
 Bad dog" though, tat that mo- ment even thought my father himself was no, good.) There was nothing deceitfal about her action. It was the love of her young that prompted her to dc H. Because she was forced to dis semble in order to save her brood it does not follow that Tresor had to seize her.
 My father wanted to put the quail in his game bag, but begged him to give her 10 me. placed her in my two hands and warmed her with my breath hoping to bring her back to life again: bu, she did no, stir
 You waste your time, said my father " lou can't revive her. Don't you see how her head is dropping :"
 ,enderly raised her head by the bill, hut i lat ., f.n
 10 you pity her so much :'' asked my father again.
 Who will feed her young:" replied.
 My father looked al me at,entively.
 Don't worry about that" he said '' the male biid. the father, will feed them. But listen: There's Tresor pointing again. l'ethaps |, IS the nest, II is"
 In fact, amor E the stalks of some tail grass two fee, in front of rresor's snout, l perceived iour little quails nestled close together and with outstretehed necks. They brea,hed so quickly. thought they were trembling all over. They had ai- ready little feathers, only their tails were still very short.
 Papa. Papa" cried, " call back the dog he'll kill them too.'
 MY iltner recalled lreSor, and prepared to si, down little way of under brush 10 eat some lunch. l remained close by the nest and refused to eat pulled from my pocket a white handkerchief, upon which placed the quail. Look, poor orphaned little ones There's your mother. She has sacrificed herself for yoa." The young birds seemed to breathe more rapidly when said il, and their bodies seemed to tremble still more vio- lently.
 went to where my father sat.
 Will you make me present of this | quail!' asked.
 !" If 1t gives you any pleasure, of course. But wha, are you gong 10 do with he, ?"
 :" am going to bury her
 Bury her .'
 'ies, there right close 10 the nest. | Give me your knife, so can dig her little grave"
 'foa sspec. the young ,c So and pray on her grave, suppose" suggested my father in astonishment.
 No." replied; but the thought pleaSPS She helN,nS thava