dly to know the use of their wings at first, and circled
around in a dazed way, alighting on the top of a neighboring roof, where
they apparently had again a great deal to say to each other. For twenty
minutes they talked, then seemed to have made up their minds to try a
long flight, for with one graceful swoop into the air, off they flew.
Hours went by, and they did not return, and when it was nearly dark all
hope was abandoned; but suddenly there was a whir of wings, and Annie
Rooney came home. McGinty still was absent. Annie Rooney perched herself
on her roost, every feather rumpled up most disconsolately, while the
boy who owned them went to bed very low in his mind. At daylight next
morning he was awakened by such a cooing as he had never heard before.
Rushing to the window, there he saw McGinty, in the wildest excitement,
and with his head almost buried in the little dish which held the
drinking water.

From that day the cage was left outside, and the door taken off, so that
the birds might come and go as they chose.

Then, alas! began their troubles. So pleased were they with their little
journey into the world that they at once set out to explore the houses
near by, and every day a note was sent in from some neighbor to the
effect: "Extremely sorry, but your pigeons fly into my bedroom and knock
down all the ornaments." "Your birds insist upon walking up and down
under my bed, making most unearthly sounds; I am afraid of birds and
cannot stand having them in my house." "Again your birds have flown into
my windows, and are in the children's doll-house. They refuse to come
out, and make such a hideous noise as to alarm the children."

[Illustration: McGINTY, ANNIE ROONEY, AND A GUEST.]

These three notes were only samples of others, and after a family
conclave it was decided the pigeons must be sent away. Summer was coming
on, and it was finally concluded the country was the best place for
them.

Their owner took them in a covered basket to a farm on Long Island,
where they were put into a pigeon-house, and provided with water and
food. The next day they were apparently happy, so with many regrets they
were told good-by, and the boy returned to town.

It was a long journey--some hours--and it was rather a sad-faced youth
who mounted the steps and told his mother he had left his birds in the
country. It was then six o'clock in the evening. At ten minutes past six
there was a great fluttering of wings, and lo