In Belgium, where pigeon racing is as great sport as horse racing is in England and America, the birds have made a speed of seventy miles an hour for short distances. From thirty to forty miles an hour, is, however, the average speed of the average bird. Though not by nature strong of wing or equipped for long flight, the birds have been known to cover great distances. Probably the longest journey of which there is any record was made some ten years ago. A family of birds had been taken from Belgium to New York, where they were to be bred and trained. They were released from the cote before they had been thoroughly domesticated, and straightway disappeared. Two weeks later three of the pigeons, bedraggled, weary and nearly dead, arrived at their native cote in Belgium. How they had made the long ocean voyage nobody ever knew, but they had evidently accomplished it in some manner, and, out of respect for their wonderful achievement, they were allowed to remain in the home to regain which they had suffered so much.

FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.HOMING PIGEON.COPYRIGHT 1900, BY
A. W. MUMFORD, CHICAGO.

The San Francisco Examiner records that "Sadie Jones, C. 21,392," is the champion long-distance homing pigeon of America, and the world, so far as is known. She flew from Lake Charles, Louisiana, to Philadelphia, a distance of 1,202 12-100 miles in 16 days and 3 hours. Sadie Jones is the property of M. S. Sullivan, of West Philadelphia, and was five years of age at the time of making the record. She was named after the daughter of the National Race Secretary, Charles H. Jones, and was personally countermarked and shipped by that young lady, together with five others. She was the only one to return. So far as known no other pigeon has ever flown this distance.

When the writer was many years younger, to please the rising generation he made a dove cote and procured a few tame pigeons. In the course of time the birds had increased by not only rearing young, but by inducing strange birds to accept the quarters offered. The pigeons were regularly fed, the meal hour being announced by a peculiar whistle. The dinner call was soon known to all the birds in the place, and the yard would immediately fill with birds from every direction when the whistle was blown. On one occasion a lame bird in the flock, which had evidently been caught in a snare and escaped with a slip noose on one leg that had cut into the flesh, making the poor bird very lame, came with the rest.

After considerable pains the bird was caught, the string cut, and the bird placed on the ground. It stood a moment as if amazed, and then flew up to its liberator's knee and fed out of his hand.

THE TWO-STORIED NEST.

ETHEL MORTON.

Looking from my study window, one day, last June, I noticed a little yellow and brown bird, who was hopping from bush to bush. She was busily chattering to another bird, who sat on a neighboring tree, evidently much enjoying a worm he was eating. I knew the pair, directly, as my friends of the season before,—the Yellow Warblers.

Mrs. Warbler was looking for a good place to build her nest. After some consideration, she decided on a bush in front of my window. Off she flew to a field of dandelions, and soon returned with several pieces of dandelion fluff. It took quite a while to complete the house, for Mrs. W. was very neat and precise in her work, but after it was finished, Mr. Warbler came over to look at it (he had left the building to his wife!), and as he seemed perfectly satisfied with it, Mrs. Warbler was happy.