for her to go. To be sure there were only small fish in this creek, but they were small children, and could not have caught large fish had there been any. Sometimes when tired of fishing, they would put their rods on the grass, and hunt pretty pebbles and small shells in the sand—this was great fun for Curly Locks—better than fishing, and she carried home with her that Fall several bottles of pretty stones and shells, into which she poured a little clear water, which made them look much brighter.
One of her greatest delights was feeding the pigeons. Her cousin Harry had a great flock of them—most of which were white, but he had all varieties; and fine specimens they were; there were fan-tails, pouters, tumblers, top-knots, and others. If you don't know the meaning of pouters and tumblers, ask your Papa and he will tell you.
Every time Curly Locks went near the barn, which was their home, they would fly down to her, and what a noise they would make! She would take them in her hands and talk to them, and they would talk back, but Curly Locks did not understand pigeon talk, so I cannot tell you what they said, though I have no doubt but that they were thanking her for feeding them.
She was feeding them one morning when Harry came running to her, his face beaming with pleasure: oh! Curly Locks! come! come quickly, Papa is going to take us
