FROM THE WOOD-PIGEON TO THE OWL.
My Good, Old, Wise, Secluded, and Quiet Friend,
I write to you in the fulness of my heart, for I have been grossly insulted by the Magpie, in a letter
received this morning; in which I am abused for what my forefathers did long before I was born. I know of nothing more base, or more unjust, than thus raking up old quarrels[4] and reproaching those who had nothing to do with them. The letter must have come through your office, but I know you have not the authority to break open and examine letters passing between those who should be friends; I therefore do not accuse you; but sometimes the heart is relieved by stating its troubles even when no redress can be expected. I know that you cannot bring to punishment that slanderer, that babbler of the woods, any more than I can; but I wish you would give me a word of comfort, if it is ever so short.
From the plantation of firs,
Near the forest-side,
WOOD-PIGEON.