The table at which Mr.Parlin sat was nearly in the centre of the room.

As the waiter approached with the pie, the same amused look passed over his face once more.
He set the dish upon the table near Mr.Parlin, who proceeded to cut a piece for Miss Dimple.

As the knife went into the pie, the crust seemed to move; and lo, "when the pie was opened," out flew a pigeon alive and well! The bird at first hopped about the table in a frightened way, a little blind and dizzy from being shut up in such a dark prison; but a few breaths of fresh air revived him, and he flew merrily around the room, to the surprise and amusement of the guests.

It was a minute or two before any of them understood what it meant.

Then they began to laugh and say they knew why the pie was "postponed:" it was because the pigeon was not willing to be eaten alive.
It passed as a capital joke; but I doubt if Dotty Dimple appreciated it.
She looked at the hollow crust, and then at the purple-crested dove, and thought a hotel dinner was even more peculiar than she had supposed.