



Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
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THE NURSERY

_A Monthly Magazine_

FOR YOUNGEST READERS.

VOLUME XIII.--No. 3

        BOSTON:
        JOHN L. SHOREY, No. 36 BROMFIELD STREET.
        1873.




        Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873,

        BY JOHN L. SHOREY,

        In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.





        BOSTON:
        RAND, AVERY, & CO., STEREOTYPERS AND PRINTERS.


[Illustration: Contents]


IN PROSE.

                                                    PAGE.
   The Pigeons and their Friend                       65

   The Obedient Chickens                              69

   John Ray's Performing Dogs                         71

   Ellen's Cure for Sadness                           75

   Kitty and the Bee                                  78

   Little Mischief                                    82

   How the Wind fills the Sails                       85

   Ida's Mouse                                        88

   Almost Lost                                        91

   Little May                                         93

   An Important Disclosure                            95


IN VERSE.

   Rowdy-Dowdy                                        67

   The Sliders                                        74

   Mr. Prim                                           77

   Minding Baby                                       80

   Deeds, not Words                                   84

   Molly to her Dolly                                 87

   Timothy Tippens (_with music_)                     96

[Illustration: Decoration]

[Illustration: THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.]




THE PIGEONS AND THEIR FRIEND.

A TRUE STORY.


[Illustration: W]HEN I was in Boston about a year ago, I stopped one day
at the corner of Washington Street and Franklin Street to witness a
pretty sight.

Here, just as you turn into Franklin Street, on the right, a poor
peddler used to stand with a few baskets of oranges or apples or
peanuts, which he offered for sale to the passers-by.

The street-pigeons had found in him a good friend; for he used to feed
them with bits of peanuts, crumbs of bread, and seed: and every day, at
a certain hour, they would fly down to get their food.

On the day when I stopped to see them, the sun shone, and the street was
crowded; and many people stopped, like myself, to see the pretty sight.

The pigeons did not seem to be at all disturbed or frightened by the
noise of carriages or the press of people; but would fly down, and light
on the peddler's wrist, and peck the food from the palm of his hand.

He had made them so tame, that they would often light on his shoulders
or on his head; and, if he put food in his mouth, they would try to get
it even from between his teeth.

The children would flock round to see him; and even the busy newsboy
would pause, and forget the newspapers under his arm, while he watched
these interviews between the birds and their good friend.

A year afterwards I was in Boston again; but the poor peddler and his
birds were not to be seen. All Franklin Street, and much of the eastern
side of Washington Street, were in ruins. There had