“Well, as to that of course they never knew, it might have been a hawk you know,” said Somebody, “but her mate would not return home without her. He just flew between the two places searching for her, but at last returned to the place where he had seen her for the last time, at Centralia, where a kind-hearted farmer who lived near the railroad track fixed him up a cote, hoping that he might forget his loss. “The pathetic part of the story is in the fact that every day when the Shasta Limited came along the little fellow would fly to meet it, dropping until he was on a level with the engine, and flying along with it for as long as he could keep up, hoping that from the window of the engine his little mate would come to meet him. Then he would return to the farm house to wait until the next day. “The train men were much interested in him, and always gave him the signal that they were coming. He paid no attention to any other train, but for a year, at the time I was there, he had been meeting the Shasta every day.” “Poor little fellow,” said the boy named Billy. “Did you see him yourself?” “Yes, I did,” said Somebody. “I chose that train on purpose because I had heard the story in Seattle. When it was time for the bird to appear the conductor of the train came and told me about it and I watched for him. He came straight as an arrow through the tree tops, and his flying was beautiful to see, as he accommodated himself to the swift flying train and its suction. At one time he was not more than six inches above the track, but gradually gained until he was on a level with the engineer’s cab.” “Poor little fellow,” said the boy named Billy. “I hope he forgot after awhile.” “So do I,” said Somebody. About Coal “Down in a coal mine underneath the ground, Where a ray of sunshine never can be found, Digging dusky diamonds all the year around Down in a coal mine underneath the ground,” sang the boy named Billy as he put more coal on Somebody’s fire. “Where _did_ you dig up that old coal-miner’s chantey, Billy Boy?” asked Somebody. “Bob White’s great-grandfather sings it sometimes in the funniest quivery old voice ever--” said the boy named Billy. “He used to be a foreman in a coal-mine in Pennsylvania when he was young, so Bob says. What’s a Chantey, please? I thought it was just a funny old song.” “A Chantey is a song that workmen sing as they work, and make up for themselves,” said Somebody. “Sometimes they have a stanza to start with and then everybody adds a little and after a time it takes on the character of the men who sing it. The men who work in the woods, and the river men, especially those of Canada, have wonderful Chanteys.” “It’s very interesting,” said Billy, “why do they call coal ‘dusky diamonds’ in their chantey?” “Because both coal and diamonds are carbon,” said Somebody, “you knew that, Billy.”