High overhead, was the dove-cote on the wagon house. "Do the pigeons fly far away, Uncle Sam? and what are they always doing?" asked Laurie when he had watched them for some time. "They fly ever so far away, Laurie," answered Uncle Sam, "but always come back again. Some pigeons you know, the carrier pigeons, carry messages, but I do not think this kind is used for that purpose." Meantime Aunt Laura had come out to scatter corn to the chickens, who, seeing her approach, hurried to meet her on all sides, until she stood surrounded by the pretty feathered creatures. Laurie begged for a handful of corn to throw to them, but started back in dismay, when an old turkey-gobbler reached up and picked a grain out of his hand. "What a rude old bird," he said, "but I wasn't a bit afraid of him, he only surprised me," he explained to Aunt Laura quickly, for fear she would think him timid. Just then the turkey, who was a pompous sort of creature, cocked his head on one side, and looked at Laurie for a moment as though he understood, then turned away. [Illustration: _"What a rude old bird," said Laurie._] "I'm afraid you have hurt his feelings," said Aunt Laura, "you see he is not used to little boys calling him names"--"Well, I'll not do it any more, I'm sure I didn't know he minded," replied Laurie, "but still," he continued, "it's not as if he really understood, he couldn't unless he were a fairy--but turkeys, and cows and pigeons on farms are not fairies, are they, Aunt Laura?" "I can't tell you that, Laurie," said Aunt Laura, "for I've never seen any fairies--some animals are more sensible than others, and some like to be petted, and are fond of being with people--if that is what you mean." "No, that is not what I mean altogether, it's only part of what I mean," he answered; "if the turkey-gobbler wasn't a fairy, it ought not to make any difference to him, my calling him rude or not, for he couldn't understand, but he looked at me in such a funny way, with his head on one side, that he must have known what I was saying." [Illustration: Laurie taking off his shoes and stockings] CHAPTER III. "I couldn't be a bit lonely here, Aunt Laura," he said, as he was sitting on the floor that night beside his bed, struggling to take off his shoes and stockings all by himself, "you see even when you and Uncle Sam are too busy for me to 'sturb you, I can just go out and play with the chickens, and talk to the little calf, and 'pretend.' "It's lots of fun 'pretending,'" he continued, "I can pretend, oh! ever so many things--I learned to do it when I had the mumps, and had to stay in bed. It wasn't half so bad the having to stay in bed then. I used to pretend I was a magician sometimes, and could turn my toys into real soldiers, and real ships, and it used to be lots of fun." "I don't think we shall ever be too busy for you to disturb us, Laurie," said Aunt Laura.