Game Bird

Joy, love, excitement throbs in his young heart, fills his dumb breast. What a glorious life – to run, to fly, to scream among his fellows. Undaunted by any northern blast, by cold, pitiless, threatening skies or ice and snow particles clinging to his narrow feet, – see him run on – eyes alert for a kernel by the wayside, or a hitherto undiscovered seed in the field. That he is beautiful, very beautiful he knows. His lovely head bears the colors of the rainbow; his tail is broad and long and...