hs, very
pleasant to hear. "I see that as usual you are judging others by
yourself," said he. "You ought to know by this time that you can do
nothing more foolish. I haven't the least doubt that a breakfast of
gravel would give you the worst kind of a stomach-ache. But you are you
and I am I, and there is all the difference in the world. You know I eat
grain and hard seeds. Not having any teeth I have to swallow them whole.
One part of my stomach is called a gizzard and its duty is to grind and
crush my food so that it may be digested. Tiny pebbles and gravel help
grind the food and so aid digestion. I think I've got enough now for
this morning, and it is time for a dust bath. There is a dusty spot over
in the lane where I take a dust bath every day."

"If you don't mind," said Peter, "I'll go with you."

Mourner said he didn't mind, so Peter followed him over to the dusty
place in the long lane. There Mourner was joined by Mrs. Dove, who was
dressed very much like him save that she did not have so beautiful a
neck. While they thoroughly dusted themselves they chatted with Peter.

"I see you on the ground so much that I've often wondered if you build
your nest on the ground," said Peter.

"No," replied Mourner. "Mrs. Dove builds in a tree, but usually not very
far above the ground. Now if you'll excuse us we must get back home.
Mrs. Dove has two eggs to sit on and while she is siting I like to be
close at hand to keep her company and make love to her."

The Doves shook the loose dust from their feathers and flew away. Peter
watched to see where they went, but lost sight of them behind some
trees, so decided to run up to the Old Orchard. There he found Jenny and
Mr. Wren as busy as ever feeding that growing family of theirs. Jenny
wouldn't stop an instant to gossip. Peter was so brimful of what he had
found out about Mr. and Mrs. Dove that he just had to tell some one.
He heard Kitty the Catbird meowing among the bushes along the old stone
wall, so hurried over to look for him. As soon as he found him Peter
began to tell what he had learned about Mourner the Dove.

"That's no news, Peter," interrupted Kitty. "I know all about Mourner
and his wife. They are very nice people, though I must say Mrs. Dove is
one of the poorest housekeepers I know of. I take it you never have seen
her nest."

Peter shook his head. "No," said he, "I haven't. What is it like?"

Kitty the Catbird laughed. "It's about the poorest apology