A gentleman in New Hampshire had a large dove shelter near his house, in which he kept a number of doves, and he gives this account of an incident which took place one winter in connection with those doves.
Two of them had built their nest in the top story of the dove shelter, and had hatched their young ones, which came out of the eggs about the middle of February 1876.
On the seventeenth day of that month a very severe snowstorm set in at the close of the day. Now the door of the dove shelter looked towards the north-west. That was the quarter from which this storm was coming, so that the snow was blowing directly into the door of the dove shelter in which these little ones only a few days old were lying.
The storm was very severe. It was the worst that had been known in that part of the country for many years. Exposed to that heavy storm the young doves would have been frozen to death if it had not been for the faithfulness of the father-bird in trying to protect them. He stood in the doorway of his little home with his back toward the wind. He spread out his tail so as to cover up the door, and kept fluttering his wings to shelter his poor little ones from the snow, and keep the cold wind from blowing on them.
If it had not been for the faithful efforts of that father-bird the little doves would all have been frozen to death. He stood there for hours with his tail and back all covered with the cold snow, and yet perfectly willing to bear all the suffering which it brought upon him, for the love which he had for his young ones and his desire to protect them from harm.
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