with his whole stock of pigeons.

Daddy Darwin had never taken up arms against his troubles, and this one
crushed him.

The fame and beauty of his house-doves were all that was left of
prosperity about the place, and now there was nothing left--
_nothing_! Below this dreary thought lay a far more bitter one,
which he dared not confide to Jack. He had heard the robbers; he
might have frightened them away; he might at least have given the lad a
chance to save his pets, and not a care had crossed his mind except for
the safety of his own old bones, and of those miserable savings in the
bed-head, which he was enduring so much to scrape together (oh satire!)
for a distant connection whom he had never seen. He crept back to the
kitchen, and dropped in a heap upon the settle, and muttered to himself.
Then his thoughts wandered. Supposing the pigeons were gone for good,
would he ever make up his mind to take that money out of the money-hole,
and buy a fresh stock? He knew he never would, and shrank into a meaner
heap upon the settle as he said so to himself. He did not like to look
his faithful lad in the face.

Jack looked him in the face, and, finding no help there, acted pretty
promptly behind his back. He roused the parish constable, and fetched
that functionary to the Dovecot before he had had bite or sup to break
his fast. He spread a meal for him and Daddy, and borrowed the Shaws'
light cart whilst they were eating it. The Shaws were good farmer-folk,
they sympathized most fully; and Jack was glad of a few words of pity
from Phoebe. She said she had watched the pretty pets "many a score of
times," which comforted more than one of Jack's heartstrings. Phoebe's
mother paid respect to his sense and promptitude. He had acted exactly
as she would have done.

"Daddy was right enough about yon lad," she admitted. "He's not one to
let the grass grow under his feet."

And she gave him a good breakfast whilst the horse was being "put to."
It pleased her that Jack jumped up and left half a delicious cold
tea-cake behind him when the cart-wheels grated outside. Mrs. Shaw sent
Phoebe to put the cake in his pocket, and "the Measter" helped Jack in
and took the reins. He said he would "see Daddy Darwin through it," and
added the weight of his opinion to that of the constable, that the
pigeons had been taken to "a beastly low place" (as he put it) that had
lately been set up for pigeon-shooting in the outskirts of the
neighboring