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The Wood-Pigeons and Mary
The Wood-Pigeons and Mary
Chapter One.
“Such Big Tears.”
“Mary is crying,” said Mr Coo.
“No!” replied Mrs Coo.
But Mr Coo said again —
“Mary is crying,” and though Mrs Coo repeated —
“No!” she knew by the way he held his head on one side and looked at her, that he was very much in earnest indeed.
I must tell you that when Mrs Coo said ‘no,’ it went off into a soft sound that was almost like ‘coo’; indeed most of her talking, and of Mr Coo’s too, sounded like that, which is the reason, I daresay, that many people would not have understood their conversation. But it would be rather tiresome to write “no,” or other words, with double o’s at the end, so I will leave it to be fancied, which will do just as well. There is a great deal of conversation in the world which careless people don’t understand; a great deal which no one can understand properly, however much they try; but also a great deal that one can get to understand, if one tries, even without the gift which the dear fairy bestowed on the very lucky prince in the long ago story. I forget his name, but I daresay some of you remember it. The gift was the power to understand all that the beasts and birds say.
This very morning the wind has been talking to me a good deal – it was the south wind, and her stories are always very sweet, though sometimes sad, yet I understand a good deal of them.
After this second “No,” Mr and Mrs Coo sat looking at each other for a moment or two, without speaking.
Then said Mr Coo —
“It must be something – serious. For Mary scarcely ever cries.”