The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1903-05-09
THE HAUNT
or THE
DOVEc07E.

They stood undsr the grim wall OF
the dovecote-an old man and young.
The great round house Of hOary and
hcary masonry looked very fortress
or prison. 1t would have suggested the
detention rather than the flight OF
doves lad it not been for their beautl-
tul little eyrie atop, red-rccfed, pigeon
holed, poised like watchtower over
this gloomy well of stone monks had
built such home-loying birds for dwell
ing place.
But the holes were dark and empty
not cne little doorway filled by the
blue figure of a preening dove, though
the midday sun was cosy.
"Why?" asked the young man.
The old ones English was scant, un-
certain, and full of hissed SIS, but he
gave of his best.
Because there is doves in the old
place, often and often through the
night, sir
THE night?"
eyes, indeed, sir. 1t is two Of doves
that is come here many, many years
years before my great-grandfatber live,
sir Two of doves that is COO all night
in the holes when the year is fall. l
hear it myself last night, sir, plain
and every night this week"
"And you never see the birds in day.
time?"
There is no birds here indeed, sir;
there is none will live in the cote it is
a long, long time ago. We have try
sir, many time; the monks, too, have
try long time before us, but there is no
doves will stay ever-not after dark. |
hear them myself go scream-screaming
across the sky. aid there is none COM
ing again, sir; we see them no more
at all"
But the doves at night?"
That is it, sir. 1t is fear of the
ghosts why those new birds fly scream
ing"
"Ghosts?"
ITO be sure Am l not tell you
hear them myself all this night, cooling
like their heart is break-two Of them,
to be sure?"
"Doye-ghosts?"
1T is peoples, sir-pcoples changed
long time ago for two doves. They tell
me the story, but never so for look.
There is the cooling out here for sure. :"
Every night?"
while the walnut leaves is fall dry,
sir. Yes, sure. Good-day. sir"
He would have shufled away through
the cast off clothing Of these old trees
that now futtered their last shreds in
the sunshine.
But the young man-at the portal of
his career, poet STEPPED in sentiment
and scenting a legend-hastily dis
played tobacco. This went to the
Welshman's heart and opened it. So
the poet plucked the legend from the
peasant.
"And you believe all this happens in
the old place every November night,
and you have heard for years the COO
ng Of doves where in the morning no
loves are, yet you have never opened
your door to look?" asked the poet
when he had plucked it.
The peasant, slowly and along his
pipestem, quizzed first the dovecote,
then the poet.
1T may happen, sir, on one night
when l shall open my door the monk
and the maid was not come at all-it
may happen l was hear no doves coo
that night"
"Ah! is that so?"
Il do not know, indeed. I was never
open my door yet, sir. I was no. look
ever, but l was hear always"
well, have you mind to open to-
night and watch with me-"
Il was not like, sir. No, indeed. They
was not come, either, perhaps, ana
then we have lose sleep for nothing.
am like better not to look, sir"
"Ah, now take you, John Roberts
Yes, there is humor in believing in
your ghosts by proxv no doubt-stale
humor. Thank you for your little jest.
John Roberts. Time-honored IS bread,
4 jest is always safe if it is old enough.
Gocd-day." And the poet looked quiz
zically in his turn at the peasant.
He, mystified, but not wholly, went
his way through dead leaves, hugging
his pipe. But he threw back word
over his shoulder:
For sure was hear them, sir many
times"
Il believe you," retorted the poet;
but, like you, I'll have faith without
sight. I'll lose my sleep in inyestiga-
tion''
Il will, though said to herself an
unobserved listener.
She. too. without calling herself poet.
vas young, stepped in sentiment,