The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1884-03-12

over again in the air, and then falling to
the ground as If she had been wounded.
Tresor made for her as fast as possible--a
thing he never did when the bird flew in
its usual manner.
My father could not take aim for fear
of hitting the dog. Presently Tresor
made sudden dash, and, before we knew
it, he had seized the quail, and brought
it TO my father. My father took the bird
from him aud laid it on its back on the
palm of his hand. ran up to him.
"What's the matter " | cried. els
she wounded 2"
"No," replied my father; "she must,
however, have her nest, with her little ones,
close by. She acted as If she was wounded
so that the dog might think he could
catch her easily"
"Why did she do 30 ?"
"In order to divert the dogs attention
from her little ones; after which, If she
had succeeded, she would have flown away.
But this time she missed her little game,
and Tresor has caught her."
"Then she is not hit 2" 1 inquired
again.
"No, but she won't live; Tresor must
have injured her with his teeth"
l stepped nearer to have better look
at the quail. She rested motionless on
the palm of my fathers hand her head
was dropping and her black eye looked at
me sideways. All at once feeling of pity
overcame me. 1t seemed as if the poor
little bird regarded me and thought (:
"Why must die Why Have 1 not
done my duty? l tried to save my little
ones, to draw the dogs attention away
from them, and here am captive All
me Poor me This is not just no, no,
it is not just"
"Papa, perhaps she will not die" l
cried, trying to csress the little birds head.
My father answered:
"Shell die. Look In another moment,
and her legs will stiffen, her body will
tremble and her eyes will close"
long. When her eyes had closed l began
to cry.
"Well, what's the matter Z" my father
exclaimed, almost laughingly.
81 pity her." l replied. "She did
her duty, and has been killed. 1t is not
just"
"She wanted to play deceitful game"
my father answered, d" but Tresor was too
smart for her."
"Bad dogl' thought at that moment
q even thought my father was not good).
There was nothing deceitful in her action.
1t was the love for her young that
prompted her to do it. Because she was
forced to dissemble 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 l begged him to give
her to me. l placed her in my two hands
and warmed her with my breath, hoping
to bring her back to life again, but she
did not stir.
"You waste your time," said my father
"You can't revive her. Don't you see
how her head is dropping ?"
tenderly raised her head by the bill,
"Do you pity her 80 much ?" asked my
father ain.
"Who will feed her young ?" 1 replied.
My father looked at me attentively.
"Don't worry about that" he said, the
male bird, the father, will feed them.
But listen There's Tresor pointing
again Perhaps it's the nest 1t is"
In fact, among the stalks of some tall
grass, two feet in front of Tresor's snout,
perceived four little quail nestled close
together and with outstretched necks.
They breathed so quickly thought they
were trembling ali over. They had al
ready little feathers only their tails were
very short.
"Papa papal" 1 cried. "Call back
the dog he'll kill them, tool
Father recalled Tresor, and prepared
to sit down little way off under bush,
to eat some lunch. l remained close by
the nest and refused to eat. I pulled
from my pocket white handkerchief,
upon which | placed a quail. "Look,
poor orphaned little ones There's your
mother She has sacrificed herself for
you" The young birds seemed to breathe
more rapidly when | said it, and their lit
violently.
went to where my father sat.
"Will you make me a present of this
quail ?" asked.
If it gives you any pleasure, of course.
But what are you going to do with her ?"
:! am going to bury her |"
"Bury her ?"
Eyes, there; right close TO the nest.
Give me your knife, 80 l can dig her little
grave"
"You expect the young to go and pray
on the grave, 1 suppose p suggested my
father in establishment.
"No," l replied; "but the thought
pleases me. She belongs there, close to
her nest"
Without another word my father looked
for his knife and handed it to me. I set
to work at once to dig the little hole. /
pressed kiss upon my quairs breast, and
placed her gently in her grave, and then
filled it up with earth. cut two sticks,
and, after removing the bark, made a
cross by tying them together with some
dry blades OF grass; and this 1 placed
upon the grave.
We started soon afterwsrd to go home.
AT each step l turned to look back.
The cross was white and could see it
far off.
That night had a dream. 1t seemed
to me was in heaven and there, perched
upon tiny little cloud, saw my quail
the very same quail / had buried in the
morning, only she was all white, like the
cross on her grave. Around her head
halo of gold spread its luster; no doubt,
thought, reward for what she had suf-
fered for the sake of her children.
Five or six days after / returned, in
r.