



Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Wood-Pigeons and Mary
By Mrs Molesworth
Illustrations by H.R. Millar
Published by Macmillan and Co, Limited, London.
This edition dated 1901.

The Wood-Pigeons and Mary, by Mrs Molesworth.

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THE WOOD-PIGEONS AND MARY, BY MRS MOLESWORTH.

CHAPTER ONE.

"SUCH BIG TEARS."

"Mary is crying," said Mr Coo.

"No!" replied Mrs Coo.

But Mr Coo said again--

"Mary is crying," and though Mrs Coo repeated--

"No!" she knew by the way he held his head on one side and looked at
her, that he was very much in earnest indeed.

I must tell you that when Mrs Coo said `no,' it went off into a soft
sound that was almost like `coo'; indeed most of her talking, and of Mr
Coo's too, sounded like that, which is the reason, I daresay, that many
people would not have understood their conversation.  But it would be
rather tiresome to write "no," or other words, with double o's at the
end, so I will leave it to be fancied, which will do just as well.
There is a great deal of conversation in the world which careless people
don't understand; a great deal which _no one_ can understand properly,
however much they try; but also a great deal that one _can_ get to
understand, if one tries, even without the gift which the dear fairy
bestowed on the very lucky prince in the long ago story.  I forget his
name, but I daresay some of you remember it.  The gift was the power to
understand all that the beasts and birds say.

This very morning the wind has been talking to me a good deal--it was
the south wind, and her stories are always very sweet, though sometimes
sad, yet I understand a good deal of them.

After this second "No," Mr and Mrs Coo sat looking at each other for a
moment or two, without speaking.

Then said Mr Coo--

"It must be something--serious.  For Mary scarcely ever cries."

"True," said Mrs Coo, "true."

But she did not say anything more, only she too held her head on one
side and kept her reddy-brown eyes fixed on Mr Coo.  They seemed to
ask, "What is to be done?" only as she nearly always depended on Mr Coo
for settling what was to be done or if anything was to be done, she did
not need to say the words.

"Mary scarcely ever cries," he repeated.  "There were large drops, quite
large ones on her cheeks."

"As large as raindrops?" asked Mrs Coo.

"Larger--that is to say as large as large raindrops--the kind that come
when it thunders," said Mr Coo.

"Oh dear," sighed Mrs Coo, thinking to herself that Mary's trouble must
be a very bad one indeed if her tears were _so_ large.  She wanted very
much for once, to ask what could be done, but she saw that Mr Coo was
considering very deeply, so she did not interrupt his thoughts.

At last he turned to her.

"I heard something," he said.  "Very little, but enough to help me to
put two and two together."

"To make four," said Mrs Coo quickly