“Child, this is a war of both little things and great. Nothing is too simple, nothing too wonderful to have its use. I can only hope my birds are of some service; what messages they bear I am, of course, not told. Yet they must be of some value, since the French government has been able to employ all I could furnish them. It is more difficult to train the young birds now. One takes them away from home for a short distance when they are young, then the distance becomes greater, a hundred miles, five hundred, sometimes six hundred. In the Franco-Prussian war, when my beloved city of Paris was besieged, the carrier pigeons kept Paris always in touch with the outside world. That shall not happen again. Paris[88] will not be besieged, and yet who can say what service my pets may not give?” [88] Nona held out her hand. “How interesting, Madame Bonnèt! Do you think one of them will come to me?” Madame Bonnèt slipped a grain of corn in Nona’s outstretched palm as she stood waiting. She was not in her nurse’s uniform, but wore a simple white dress and a moment before had taken off her hat. She looked very young and slender and picturesque in contrast with Madame Bonnèt’s size and her mourning. A particularly lovely gray pigeon with delicate lavender shades of color in her full throat had for several moments been hovering about Nona, coquetting with her. Now, at her invitation, the pigeon rose and flew off, then returned and for a breathless instant settled in Nona’s hand. Madame Bonnèt reached over and lifted it up. “My pigeons rarely do that for anyone except my daughter or me. So I mean to name this one for you. Will you tell me your name again? I do not think I heard, there were so many ones.” [89]Madame Bonnèt was speaking in French, but Nona understood her without difficulty. Madame Bonnèt seemed to be able to understand English, but not to use it fluently. [89] Nona repeated her name. Then slipping her hand into her pocket she drew out a little purse and opened it. “I have been carrying around a little gold luck piece someone gave me as a child. May I tie it around my pigeon, so if we ever meet again I may recognize her as my namesake?” Then Nona felt embarrassed by her own sentimentality.
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