His grandfather smiled. “There she is.”
Titus looked around. The princess’s back was toward him; she was very busy about something, he could not tell what.
He stepped forward and recognized an enormous pincushion, the property of Mrs. Blodgett. It was stuck full of large, round-headed pins, and the pigeon was amusing herself by pulling out these pins and throwing them on her square of oilcloth.
“W-w-what is she doing that for?” asked the boy, in amazement.
“To kill time, I suppose,” replied his grandfather. “It is my proud privilege to pick up the pins and stick them in the cushion when she has drawn them all out.”
“W-w-well, I never!” exclaimed Titus, with open mouth. “I never saw a pigeon play before.” Then he said, “Sukey!”
The pigeon turned round.
“P-p-pretty bird,” he went on.
“O, rookety cahoo!” she said, irritably, and as he continued to pet her she walked up and down the oilcloth, shaking her head and setting her hood quivering.
There was a lovely greenish sheen on the red neck feathers, and Titus exclaimed admiringly, “Y-you beauty!”