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diff --git a/24970-h/24970-h.htm b/24970-h/24970-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66dc4d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/24970-h/24970-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1921 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story of a Robin, by Agnes S. Underwood</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; font-size: 110%; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; } + hr { width: 45%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; } + hr.fm { width: 7%; /* front matter */ + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; + margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; + clear: both; color:black; } + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + body{margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; } + .text { font-size: 110%; } /* main text */ + .fmh { text-align: center; font-size: 200%; font-weight:bold; /* front matter */ + margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0em; } + .fmh2 { text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight:bold; + margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + .fm {text-align: center; font-size: 100%; font-weight:bold; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 1em;} + .fm2 { text-align: center; font-size: 160%; font-weight:bold; + margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em;} + .fm3 { text-align: center; font-size: 100%; font-weight:bold; + margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; } + .fm4 { text-align: center; font-size: 75%; font-weight:bold; + margin-top: 4em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + .pad { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; } + .pad2 { margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 3.5em; } + .toc {position: relative; margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%; /* table of contents */ } + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + right: 5%; + font-size: 70%; + text-align: right; + text-decoration: none; + color: silver; background-color: inherit; } /* page numbers */ + .pagenum a {text-decoration: none; color: #5a5a5a; background-color: inherit; } + a {text-decoration: none;} + a[name] {position:absolute; /* Fix Opera bug */} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 85%;} + .caption2 {margin-top: .2em; margin-bottom: .2em; font-size: 85%; text-align: right; } + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Story of a Robin, by Agnes S. Underwood</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Story of a Robin</p> +<p>Author: Agnes S. Underwood</p> +<p>Release Date: March 31, 2008 [eBook #24970]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A ROBIN***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by David Clarke, Suzan Flanagan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/frontctn.png" width="300" height="422" alt="Front cover" title="Front cover" /> +</div> +<hr /> +<div class="pad"><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h1>THE STORY OF A ROBIN</h1></div> + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/frontistn.png" width="300" height="452" alt="“Two old robins were consulting.” +Page 9." title="“Two old robins were consulting.” +Page 9." /></div> + +<table width="300" summary="caption text"> +<tr><td align="center"><span class="caption"><i>“Two old robins were consulting.”</i></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="caption2"><a href="#Page_9">Page 9.</a></span></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<p class="fmh2">THE</p> + +<p class="fmh"><span class="smcap">Story of a Robin</span></p> +<div class="pad2"> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/ill-tptn.png" width="300" height="218" alt="A FEAST FOR A KING Page 16" title="A FEAST FOR A KING +Page 16" /></div> +<table width="300" summary="caption text"> +<tr><td align="center"><span class="caption">A FEAST FOR A KING</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="caption2"><a href="#Page_16"><i>Page 16</i></a></span></td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p class="fmh2"><span class="smcap">T. Nelson and Sons</span></p> + +<p class="fm"><i>London, Edinburgh, and New York</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<p class="fmh2">THE</p> + +<p class="fm2">STORY OF A ROBIN</p> + +<p class="fm4">BY</p> + +<p class="fmh2">AGNES S. UNDERWOOD</p> +<div class="pad"> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/logotn.png" width="100" height="39" alt="decoration" title="decoration" /> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="fmh2">T. NELSON AND SONS</p> + +<p class="fm3"><i>London, Edinburgh, and New York</i></p> +<hr class="fm" /> +<p class="fm3">1898</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<div class="toc"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="TABLE OF CONTENTS"> +<col style="width:80%" /> +<col style="width:20%" /> +<tr><td><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_A_ROBIN">THE STORY OF A ROBIN,</a></td><td align="right">9</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#APPLE-PIE_ORDER">APPLE-PIE ORDER,</a></td><td align="right">40</td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_STORY_OF_A_ROBIN" id="THE_STORY_OF_A_ROBIN"></a>THE STORY OF A ROBIN.</h2> + + +<p>One fine summer morning two old +robins were consulting about breaking +up their household. In other words, +they thought the time had come when +their young ones should turn out of the +nest and find food for themselves. There +were five little birds in that nice, warm +nest, but it was much too small for them +now that they were so well feathered; and +as they quarrelled terribly about getting +the best place, the weakest one was in +danger of being tumbled over the side +with the pushing and struggling that went +on. Then they were such hungry birds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +that their parents could not find enough +of food to satisfy them, and the poor old +birds were getting quite thin, and were +tired flying from their nest to the plot +where the gardener was raising some early +potatoes, which was the best place to find +food, and back with their mouths full.</p> + +<p>Cock Robin said to his wife,—</p> + +<p>“This is going to be a very warm day, +and I am not going to work all through +the sunshiny hours feeding birds old +enough to look after themselves. We +shall say we are going away for a holiday, +as we require change of air, and they +must go and find their own food. Don’t +look so sad, my dear; it is the way of the +world. The same thing happened to us. +I wonder what my father would have said +had I screamed to him for food when I +was the age my sons are?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Robin listened dutifully to this +long speech, and, like a good wife, acquiesced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +in what her husband said. But as +she flew with him to tell the youngsters of +the change awaiting them, her heart was +a little sore on account of her latest +hatched birdie. He was not so big or so +strong as the others, and she feared he +might be caught by a cat or die of cold. +However, it was no use dwelling on these +dismal ideas; he must just take his chance, +as all birds before him had done. She +would give him some good advice as to +avoiding cats, and the proper drying of +his feathers when they got wet, so that +he should not get rheumatism in his bones.</p> + +<p>On reaching the nest, they found there +had been a fierce fight among their children. +All the five were out of the nest, +and four of them were on the ground +fluttering and screaming, each trying to +tell its own story and throw the blame on +its neighbour.</p> + +<p>“What is the meaning of this noise?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +said Cock Robin.</p> + +<p>“Where is Robinette?” cried Mrs. +Robin. “Has a cat or a weasel been +here?”</p> + +<p>Chip, chip, chip was heard among +the leaves close to the deserted home, and +the mother flew up to see if her darling +was all right, leaving the father of the +family to settle matters with the others. +Robinette was safe, and as he took the +breakfast his mother had brought him, he +told her what a fight there had been, and +how he in the struggle had been pushed +over the side. He also told her he could +use his wings so well that he had been +able to steady himself and keep from falling, +until he found a branch that he could +rest on comfortably. And there he had +waited for his mother’s return, knowing +that she would bring him something good +to eat.</p> + +<p>The poor mother was wondering how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +she was to tell her wee birdie that this +was the last breakfast she would bring +him, when he introduced the subject himself +by saying he wished he had not to get +back into that nest. Indeed he did not +think he could do it, for his wings were +so stretched with using them that he was +sure they would never crumple up into so +small a space as they used to occupy.</p> + +<p>“Seeing that your wings are grown, +my son, your father has decided we must +all fly away. Let us join him now, and +hear what he is saying to your brothers +and sisters. He is very angry about this +quarrelling, which is out of all order, and +quite contrary to the doctrine taught by +Dr. Watts that ‘Birds in their little nests +agree;’ and he does not like to think +that his children are naughty beyond +all others.”</p> + +<p>Robinette obediently accompanied his +mother to the ground, and Mrs. Robin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +was glad to see how cleverly he managed +both legs and wings. They found Cock +Robin still haranguing his unruly family; +but on seeing his wife, he concluded his +remarks thus,—</p> + +<p>“You are old enough and strong +enough to do for yourselves, so off you go. +Your mother and I will look after Robinette, +and keep an eye on you for a day or +two to see how you get on. I hope the +gardener will be considerate enough to +leave those worm-enticing carrots in the +ground, for then there will be plenty of +food for us all. Now good-bye.”</p> + +<p>Cock Robin, having dismissed the four, +turned to his wife and Robinette.</p> + +<p>“I hope, my dear, he was not hurt by +his rough brothers and sisters?”</p> + +<p>“No,” she replied, “he was not hurt; +and I am now satisfied that his legs and +wings are all they should be. As for his +brains, he has more in his little head than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +all the others put together. I feel sure +Robinette will have a history.”</p> + +<p>Cock Robin put his head first to one +side, then to the other, and gave a funny, +chirrupy laugh.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you mother birds are all alike; +you think your special nursling is sure to +turn out the flower of the flock.”</p> + +<p>“Let us fly away. There is an uncomfortable +feeling about my feathers, plainly +telling me there is a cat near us.”</p> + +<p>At this moment there was a rustle +among some leaves, and a beautiful tabby +cat came into view close to where the +birds were. Robinette got such a fright +that he rose suddenly from the ground, +and he seemed to go on rising, rising, until +he was far away from his home in the +rhododendron bush.</p> + +<p>In his pleasure at finding himself going +along so easily up in the air he quite forgot +the cat, and, alas! he forgot his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +parents too. He forgot everything but +himself.</p> + +<p>“What a big place the world is!” +thought he, as he sat on a branch of a large +walnut-tree and looked round about him.</p> + +<p>He was rather tired, so he rested there +a while. Then he remembered that he had +no one to bring him his food now; he +must look for it himself. So he spread +his wings and let himself gently down to +the ground, where he soon found some +earth newly turned over, and there was a +feast for a king. Oh, those thoughtless +wire-worms playing in the sunshine, they +little knew who was just going to pounce +upon them!</p> + +<p>Robinette was now quite “on his own +hook,” as people who speak slang say. +There was no one to consult as to what he +should do; and though this freedom was +enjoyable in the full daylight, he began to +feel lonesome as evening drew on. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +found a good supper where he had found +his dinner, then crept into a nice, thick +rose-bush, dropped a silent tear as he +thought of his mother, and tucking his +head under his wing, fell fast asleep.</p> + +<p>For some time Robinette’s life was +much the same day by day. He met +with no accidents, and had no adventures. +However, one morning he saw something +new and strange. He was on his usual +point of observation—the branch of the +walnut-tree—when he saw the gardeners +bringing a long seat and putting it against +the trunk of his tree. Then a neat maid +from the house brought cushions and rugs. +Next came a lady, and seated herself comfortably +among those cushions and rugs.</p> + +<p>“This must be ‘the mistress’ I hear the +men speak about. She is evidently at +home here, and looks as though she were +some one of importance; but, poor thing, +she seems lonely. I am lonely too. I don’t<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +care for the other birds in the garden; +they are a common lot with no manners. +I’ll get acquainted with ‘the mistress.’ +From what the men say, it is a wise thing +to be on friendly terms with those in +authority. I’ll go down and speak to her.”</p> + +<p>With this he flew down near to the lady’s +feet. She was reading <i>The Standard</i> with +close attention, and did not see the wee +bird.</p> + +<p>“Chip, chip, chip,” said Robinette—his +way of saying “good-morning,” you know.</p> + +<p>Down went the newspaper with a +crackling noise that somewhat alarmed +him, so he withdrew to what he thought +a safe distance. He flew to a dahlia +stake, and from there again addressed the +lady.</p> + +<p>“Chip, chip, chip. Ah! she sees me +now,” he said to himself.</p> + +<p>The lady looked and saw him. He +came near her, almost to her feet again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +Robinette was very brave—whether from +real courage or from ignorance is a disputed +point.</p> + +<p>“What a very friendly bird! You seem +quite tame.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder what she means,” thought +the birdie. “Chip, chip, chip,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Come near, robin; I shall not hurt +you. Sing me a song.” And the lady +made that curious, kissing sound with her +lips that people always make when speaking +to birds.</p> + +<p>Robinette thought she was very polite +to sing to him on such a slight acquaintance; +and not to be behind in his manners, +he sang to her with his strange, twittering +note. The two conversed and sang to +each other for some little time, when +another lady came under the tree.</p> + +<p>“Do look at that funny, little bird, +Polly; it has been hopping about close to +me, and seems very tame. We must bring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +some crumbs next time we come out.—Good-bye, +Robin; but really you are so +small that we shall call you Robinette.”</p> + +<p>The ladies moved away, and the bird was +left wondering what “crumbs” were like.</p> + +<p>For some days after this the rain came +down so fast that poor Robinette had +much ado to keep himself dry. He +cowered under his rose-bush or kept close +to the thick hedge; but all the places +got so very wet that the poor wee birdie +thought life was not worth living. However, +just as he was in the depths of +despair, out came the sun from behind the +clouds, and soon all nature was rejoicing +again. The two ladies came out from the +house to breathe the perfume-laden air +and to enjoy the sounds of reviving nature. +Robinette was so glad to see them that he +flew quite close to them, saying in his own +way, “Good-day to you—chip, chip, chip.”</p> + +<p>“There is Robinette, I declare,” said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +Polly; “how wet and draggled he looks, +poor birdie! He needs the sun to dry his +wings.”</p> + +<p>The next day was all that could be +wished in the way of heat and bright sunshine, +so the ladies came to the garden +seat. Robinette was looking out for +them, and could scarcely wait for the +older lady to be settled among the +cushions and wrapped up in the rugs by +her daughter. There are treacherous +draughts under trees, and Polly was very +careful of her mother. At last all arrangements +were complete, and Mrs. Lewis +opened her book to read. Suddenly Robinette +flew on to it, quite startling her by +such an approach. But she was charmed +with his trusting familiarity, and at once +asked Polly for the crumbs she had +brought out. Polly produced them from +her useful apron pocket, and threw some +gently on the grass at her feet, and Robinette<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +was soon eating the finest feast he +had ever had.</p> + +<p>You may be sure, after having eaten +these good things, Robinette was always +watching for the ladies, and he hopped +beside them and sang to them as they +walked or worked in the garden. He was +soon tame enough to eat from their hands, +and Polly, looking upon him as a great +curiosity, wished to show him off to some +gentlemen friends. But Robinette obstinately +refused to be made a spectacle +of. Not the most enticing crumbs would +bring him to her hands if strangers were +near, particularly of the male sex. He had +no faith in men.</p> + +<p>As the summer days passed away, and +autumn came and went, the days became +shorter and colder, and Robinette found +his way into the house, and soon was as +much at home there as in the garden. +He made friends with the cook in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +kitchen, and had many a rich meal when +she was preparing the family dinner. He +knew all the meal-times. He came in by +the morning-room window in time for +breakfast. But there he ran some risks. +He sometimes encountered the table-maid, +who was very cross with him; and perhaps +not without reason, for he was not +particular to wipe his feet before flying on +to the clean white table-cloth, and often +left the marks of his claws all over it; so +she feared her mistress would insist on +her changing the cloth. As this young +woman especially disliked extra work, she +used to frighten Robinette nearly out of +his senses by shaking her duster at him +and pretending to catch him.</p> + +<p>Whenever the ladies came downstairs he +was quite safe. They let him do what he +liked. He tasted the bacon, he feasted +on butter, he burned his toes on the tea-pot—in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +fact, he did whatever came into +his little head. At lunch he again presented +himself, and he came to the +drawing-room for afternoon tea.</p> + +<p>With all this high living he became a +big, fat bird, and I am sorry to say he +was very selfish and very jealous. He +could not endure the thought of any +other bird sharing his privileges, as the +following incident proves.</p> + +<p>One morning after breakfast he heard +a noise in the hall.</p> + +<p>“Whoever is Polly speaking to? It +must be another bird,” said he to himself. +“That is the way she speaks to me. I +must see to this. If it is another robin, I +shall be the death of him.”</p> + +<p>He ruffled up his feathers and flew into +the hall, prepared to do battle with any +intruder. He was very angry to hear +Polly speak in such petting tones to any +bird but himself, and he was tempted +to give her ear a bite as he sat on her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +shoulder. He found he had put himself +in a rage very needlessly. It was not +another robin, but a little wren.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” he thought, “I wonder what +she wants.—Good-day, Miss Wren; are +you coming to live here?”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking of it,” she replied, +tossing her head; “but I don’t think the +society is very select.”</p> + +<p>As she made this speech, she gave it +point by looking straight at Robinette.</p> + +<p>“Indeed,” he said, “you are rather a +small person to have formed such a large +opinion; but as you are so small, you are +welcome to stay as long as you do not +interfere with me.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for nothing, Cock Robin. +I shall stay or I shall go without asking +your leave.”</p> + +<p>“You are a very rude bird, Jenny Wren.”</p> + +<p>“Am I, Cock Robin? There are various +opinions about that. What a great, fat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +clumsy bird you are, to be sure! I would +not have you for a husband though there +were not another bird in the garden.”</p> + +<p>“You will perhaps wait until you are +asked, Miss Wren,” replied Robinette, +feeling he had better retire from the argument +after this retort, for Jenny, like all +females, would try to have the last word.</p> + +<p>Polly had been watching the birds +fluttering towards each other, and was a +little fearful Robinette might be rough +with Jenny, so she was glad to see them +part company after simply speaking, as +she thought.</p> + +<p>This is the only incident worth mentioning +that occurred during the winter +months. Robinette’s life was happy and +comfortable. Free to come and go as he +pleased, he always felt himself a guest—never +a prisoner.</p> + +<p>At last winter was over, and the garden +was beginning to have more attractions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +There were some rather pretty Miss +Robins flying about, and our bird thought +he must go a-courting. He could not +easily make up his mind whether he +should bring a wife into the house, or +whether he should go and live in the +garden with her. Finally he decided on +the latter plan.</p> + +<p>One very fine morning he dressed his +feathers most carefully, saw that each one +was lying exactly over the other, that his +brown coat was perfect and his red waist-coat +faultless. He practised his singing +until his love-song was all he could wish +it. He was wonderfully well satisfied +with himself; but Jenny Wren’s impertinent +speeches would recur to his mind. +The words fat and clumsy had especially +annoyed him, and he never could altogether +rid himself of their effect.</p> + +<p>As he flew past the greenhouse he saw +a bucket with pure, clear water in it. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +thought he would rest on the edge and +take a drink. Imagine his delight when +he saw reflected in the water a perfectly +beautiful cock robin, as charming a bird +as any one could desire to see. After +such a vision, what cared he for Jenny +Wren and her impudence? Away he +went, flying up and down the garden, +quite sure that no Miss Robin in her +senses would say “no” to him.</p> + +<p>He rested a while on the branch of an +apple-tree, while he meditated on the +various Miss Robins, and considered to +which he should pay his addresses. He +was startled by a slight movement of +some leaves just beneath him, and on +looking down to find the cause, he saw his +too candid friend Jenny.</p> + +<p>“So you are come out a-courting?” +said she. “You are not a bit thinner. +Which of the Miss Robins do you think +will have you—a fat, over-fed house-bird?”<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You are quite mistaken, Miss Wren, +if you think I am out for any such purpose. +I am only taking an airing this fine +day. A-courting, indeed! A bird like +you would frighten any bachelor. I am +sorry for your husband, if you ever get +one.”</p> + +<p>Away he flew, for he did not like Miss +Wren’s remarks. You see, he had not +mixed much with other birds, so he had +not, as it were, found his level. He was +in danger of thinking too much or too +little of himself; and then, you perceive, +he was thin-skinned.</p> + +<p>Poor birdie! That pert young Jenny +had put his spirits down to his very toes. +Had it not been for the glimpse he got in +the bucket, he would have returned to the +house discouraged for that day. However, +like many other creatures, he did +not know what the near future had in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +store for him.</p> + +<p>The time of day was noon, and he bethought +him the kitchen dinner would be +ready; so he prepared to fly towards the +house, as he was very hungry. Just at +this moment he caught sight of the gardener +turning over some stuff for a hot-bed, +and he also saw some fine, fat worms +thrown to the surface by the fork. He +concluded to dine there that day, and proceeded +to make a very satisfactory meal. +He had with some difficulty swallowed a +very large worm, when he heard the gardener +say, “Hush! gently; now we shall +see some fun.” Robinette looked up. +He saw, and he loved. The daintiest +Miss Robin in all the garden was hopping +towards him. Alas! beside her was a fine +cock robin, and they seemed on the pleasantest +terms with each other, and hopped +along, quite unaware of Robinette’s presence. +To be ignored was what he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +not stand. So he came near to them, +made a deep bow to the lady, and ruffled +his feathers and scowled at his rival. A +fierce rage and jealousy took possession of +him. He would kill this bird or die in +the fight. The other cock robin was as +eager for the fray as he was; so these two +little birds were soon fighting savagely for +the lady of their choice. She watched +the duel from a twig close by. She had +made up her mind to marry the winner, +and it did not seem to matter much which +that was. Both were handsome; and the +victor would prove himself the stronger. +The birds were very equally matched, and +fought for some time with varying fortune. +At last, however, Robinette was conqueror, +and he flew at once to the lady +and claimed her as his bride. He knew +he now had a right to her; but just in case +her mind should waver towards another, +he placed before her the advantages of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +alliance with him, the chief one being that +he could get as much food as ever they +could eat, with very little trouble, and the +food was of the most rare and nourishing +kind.</p> + +<p>“I can get some for you now, for I see +my friends in the garden, and Polly is +sure to have crumbs in her pocket. Wait +here until I come back.”</p> + +<p>The ladies had come out for a stroll in +the garden. What a garden that was! +At almost any season it was beautiful, but +in the summer it was a paradise alike for +birds and human beings. It was surrounded +by grand old trees of many kinds +and flowering shrubs as large as trees. +Then the wealth of roses and sweet-scented, +old-fashioned flowers of all sorts, +mixed here and there with their more +modern sisters, made it a perfect dream of +delight. How the town-wearied friends +rejoiced when they were bidden to visit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +that garden! There their eyes were refreshed +by the softly-blended colouring +and exquisite beauty of the whole scene. +They breathed in the delicious air, and +thought it better than wine as a restorer of +strength. No words can describe the feeling +to the feet of those soft, green avenues—the +grass so short that the most delicate +could walk there without harm, and so +smooth that a child’s bare foot could run +there scathless. That garden is now to +those dear friends a place in their memory +only. The ladies have passed away from +it, and strangers are in possession.</p> + +<p>Excuse this digression.</p> + +<p>Robinette flew to Polly’s hand.</p> + +<p>“So here you are, Bobbie. We wondered +what had become of you, as you did +not come in at lunch-time. Don’t fill your +mouth so full; you will choke yourself. +Oh! he is off.”</p> + +<p>Polly had held the crumbs for him as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +usual, and he just stuffed his mouth full +and flew in the direction of the greenhouse.</p> + +<p>“Mother, Robinette must have a lady-love. +He has taken the crumbs away; +he did not swallow them.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Robinette was charmed with the +crumbs—that kind of food suited her taste +exactly; and she hoped her husband would +keep her well supplied with them when she +was too much occupied with other matters +to seek food for herself. Robinette gallantly +promised to do his best for her.</p> + +<p>Now it was time to seek a place for +their nest, and begin building. Like most +young people under similar circumstances, +they were difficult to please. Robinette, +having been so much accustomed to a +house, thought the greenhouse the best +place; Mrs. Robinette, knowing nothing +about houses, thought a nice, thick bush +much superior. She, like a good wife,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +gave in to her husband, and allowed him +to choose the site for their nest. He +selected a nice, quiet corner of the greenhouse, +beside some large flower-pots that +looked as if they had not been disturbed +for a century. Here they would be safe +from storms and cats and all creatures +which terrify small birds. As evening was +drawing on, our little lovers parted, having +appointed a place to meet next morning +at sunrise to begin to build their nest.</p> + +<p>The following day the sun rose bright +and beautiful, making all things and creatures +rejoice, and none more than our two +little birds, who were soon as busy as +possible, finding and bringing the materials +necessary for their purpose.</p> + +<p>They had such a happy time building +that nest; he was so gallant and she was +so sweet. How he sang to her when she +was tired, and what delicious crumbs he +brought her! Some shortbread had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +sent to Polly as a present, and it is such +a crumbling cake that the birds feasted +royally while it lasted.</p> + +<p>At last the nest was finished. The little +builders looked it all over and could find +no fault with it. As they were rather +exhausted with their hard work, they +agreed to rest themselves a while near the +hot-bed where the memorable fight had +taken place. There they could find plenty +of worms without fatigue, and they would +sleep or chat as they felt disposed. When +they were sufficiently rested, they went +back to look at their pretty, new house. +Alas! alas! what desolation they found! +The gardener, who had been cleaning +his greenhouse, had moved the big, dirty +flower-pots, and had thrown out the robins’ +nest. Poor, tired birds, they had to begin +all over again. Mrs. Robinette burst into +tears, saying,—</p> + +<p>“I told you not to choose a house to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +build in; I was sure a bush would have +been safer. Do, dear husband, come away +now to some other place; I do not like +the men.”</p> + +<p>Robinette was very angry at his work +being spoiled, and he answered a little +sharply,—</p> + +<p>“Nonsense, my dear; I am not going to +be driven out of my way by a stupid old +gardener. We shall build here again. +Let us set to work at once; and if that +man interferes I shall tell the mistress. +Hallo! here is a piece of good-luck for us; +he has only thrown it down here. To be +sure, it is torn to pieces. But never mind; +we shall soon have it up again.”</p> + +<p>You see Robinette had a temper; but +he was a cheery wee bird, inclined to +make the best of things. When his anger +had cooled, he chirped to his down-hearted +little wife so brightly that she was obliged +to pluck up spirit, and they were soon as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +merry as before the terrible misfortune.</p> + +<p>A few days after these events Mrs. +Lewis came into her greenhouse, and seeing +it look so much brighter and lighter +than usual, she said to the gardener,—</p> + +<p>“You must acknowledge that the house +looks better for being clean. Try to keep +it so.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try, ma’am; but it is not much +use when these mischievous birds come in, +bringing their stuff to build with. Just +look there. I threw away a nest from +that very spot three days ago, and there +is another. And there is a robin in it.”</p> + +<p>“It is Robinette,” cried Polly. “I am +sure it is.—Bobbie, come for crumbs.”</p> + +<p>Robinette, sly bird, had been watching +and listening; and when he saw that attention +was drawn to the nest, he sat down +in it as though he were the lady on her +eggs, knowing well “the mistress” would +give orders that he was not to be disturbed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +And when she saw it was her +own pet robin, of course she was more +decided, and told the gardener he was on +no account to take down the nest, and +every possible arrangement was to be +made for the comfort and happiness of +Robinette and his wife.</p> + +<p>It is customary to close all stories when +the hero marries. So, having come to the +end of Robinette’s bachelor days, we shall +take leave of him and his bride, hoping +that, now they are married, they will +“live happy ever after.”</p> + + + +<hr /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPLE-PIE_ORDER" id="APPLE-PIE_ORDER"></a>APPLE-PIE ORDER.</h2> + + +<p>What a bright, sunshiny forenoon! +and how green the meadow +looked before Simon Copland’s farm! +The thrush in the great thorn was +singing loudly, and the old clock, which +stood in its dark oak case in the corner +of the kitchen, struck twelve as little +Phœbe came into the porch.</p> + +<p>This little girl, though, whose face was +so sad, and whose straw-hat hung so +droopingly from her arm, was not like the +Phœbe of most days, who, on her return +from school about this hour, came popping +her happy little face in at the door, and if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +dinner were ready, would eat hers quickly, +and be off again.</p> + +<p>The kitchen at Simon Copland’s was a +long, large room, and had great beams +across the ceiling, from which hung hams +and other good things. Mrs. Copland +was busy at the table, and near one of +the windows sat her brother, Phœbe’s +uncle, Roger, who lived some miles away +at pretty Lady’s Mead, and who was +very dear to his little niece. To him, +however, she had no mind to go at +present, and would have slipped upstairs; +but he quickly spied out the little figure +in the doorway, and opened his arms +to her, saying, “Here’s the little lass; +give thy Uncle Rogie a kiss, Phœbe.” +There was no escape for Phœbe, and +in a minute more she was on her uncle’s +knee, while his large forefinger was placed +on the marks of tears on her cheeks, +and his kind inquiring eyes asked as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +well as his words, “Phœbe, my lass, +what ails thee?”</p> + +<p>Her mother turned round from the table. +“What is it, Phœbe?” she said.</p> + +<p>And then came a burst of tears +from the little girl, and a confession, +poured into Uncle Roger’s ear, of misfortunes +that day, and many days before, +at Mrs. Nott’s school in the village; +how diligently Phœbe had always prepared +her lessons overnight, but how first +one book was lost, and then another; +and how to-day, because the pencil had +been carelessly fastened to the slate, it too +had disappeared, and was not there when +wanted, and in consequence Margaret +Prettyman had got above her—sly Margaret +Prettyman, who often did not learn +her lessons at all, but kept her place at +the head of the class by writing down her +task on a slip of paper, and keeping it in +her hand while she repeated it; and how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +Mrs. Nott had said that Margaret was so +tidy and Phœbe so careless; and how she +reproved the latter when the class was +over, and told her that, unless girls were +tidy and careful, all their learning was of +no use. “Every girl ought to keep +herself and her things in apple-pie order,” +Mrs. Nott said. “And, O uncle,” sobbed +Phœbe, “I know I’m careless, but I never +can remember to be tidy; and I can’t keep +apple-pie order, for I don’t know what it +is.” And so, with many more tears, +Phœbe’s confession ended.</p> + +<p>“Well, child,” said her mother, “it’s as +I’ve often told you. Your drawer is a +shame to be seen; and I’m glad Mrs. +Nott spoke to you as she did.”</p> + +<p>Uncle Roger stroked his chin, and sat +looking out through the window for a +little, saying nothing, till Phœbe’s sobs +grew less frequent, and at last almost +ceased. He then reached his hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +through the open lattice, and pulling a +little flower from among the creepers, +gently raised Phœbe’s face, saying,—</p> + +<p>“Look thee here, little niece; mark +this small, pretty flower, with its white +blossoms so perfect and tidy; look at the +stalk below, and each little leaf upon it, +regular, one after the other. There isn’t +one part of this pretty flower out of its +place, Phœbe; and who made it?”</p> + +<p>Phœbe’s sobs ceased altogether as she +replied, “God, uncle.”</p> + +<p>“And look there,” Uncle Roger went +on, drawing towards him as he spoke a +large china dish, on which lay a beautiful +honeycomb, which Mrs. Copland had set +aside for a sick friend—“look at this too. +See each cell, and each of these beautiful +little arches; there is not one unlike its +neighbour. What do you think of order +like that, niece Phœbe? isn’t it perfect?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, uncle,” she whispered, quieted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +and wondering.</p> + +<p>“Well, little lass, our God, who made +the pretty flower, and caused the bees to +make the sweet honeycomb, is a God of +order, and He loves order. He does not +wish my little Phœbe to be the untidy +little maid she is.”</p> + +<p>Phœbe lay quiet for a few minutes, +thinking to herself how kindly Uncle +Roger always spoke to her, and how +much easier it was to “feel good” with +him than with Mrs. Nott or Margaret +Prettyman. “But what did Mrs. Nott +mean by ‘apple-pie order,’ uncle?” she +said after a little, looking up in her uncle’s +face.</p> + +<p>Uncle Roger smiled and smoothed her +hair, not saying anything for a moment +or two; then, instead of answering her +question, he asked, “When is your birthday, +Phœbe?”</p> + +<p>“The twenty-sixth of next month,” she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +replied quickly, and wondering very much.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember,” continued Uncle +Roger, “the custard feast I gave you last +birthday? I’ve been asking your mother +here to bring you over this year too to +Lady’s Mead, and I’ll give you another +feast, and father, and mother, and Bob, +and little Charlie; and we’ll have Uncle +and Aunt Leyton, and little Mary-Anne +to keep you company; and then, Niece +Phœbe, I’m thinking of showing you +by that time what apple-pie order is. +Don’t you know how good Uncle Roger’s +apple-pies are?”</p> + +<p>“O uncle!” cried Phœbe, clasping him +closely round the neck; “how good you +are to me, Uncle Roger—custards and +apple-pies, and Cousin Mary-Anne!”</p> + +<p>“Fair and softly,” said her uncle, +loosening her hold. “You haven’t heard +it all yet, Phœbe. It is nearly a month +till that, you know. Well, you must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +promise me that every day of that month +you will please your mother by keeping +your drawer, or whatever it is, as tidy +as a nut; and I must have from Mrs. +Nott a good account of your order and +neatness. Mind, <i>every day</i>; no books +lost, no pencils falling off, else no apple-pies +for you, Niece Phœbe.”</p> + +<p>Phœbe’s face fell. “O uncle!” she +said.</p> + +<p>Her mother looked round again. +“Roger, you spoil the child,” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Not if I teach her order, Sister +Marjory,” was his reply.</p> + +<p>“I’ll <i>try</i>, uncle,” whispered Phœbe; +and Uncle Roger kissed her.</p> + +<p>You all know the difference well, I +don’t doubt, betwixt <i>trying</i> and <i>doing</i>—how +easy it seems to perform a promise +at first, when resolves are fresh and +strong, but how each day takes, as it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +were, a little bit of strength out of the +wish to do the disagreeable duty. Little +Phœbe was truly anxious to overcome her +bad habit; and I can also say that, +though apple-pies and custards, and her +dear little cousin Mary-Anne’s company, +had at first given her an inducement to do +so, yet after a little that part of it became +very faint indeed in comparison with the +wish to succeed in fulfilling her promise +to Uncle Roger.</p> + +<p>Difficult enough the task was; and +sometimes Phœbe felt as if the month +would never pass. But the days went on +somehow, and Mrs. Copland was much +amused, and secretly much pleased, to see +the important air with which her little +daughter would retire daily to her small +bedroom, next her father and mother’s, +and after a great deal of knocking about +and noise overhead, would run downstairs, +and coming to Mrs. Copland, say,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +“Please, mother, come and look at my +drawer. I’m sure it’s tidy.”</p> + +<p>After a little time had passed, Mrs. +Copland explained to her daughter the +secret of true order; which is, not to +keep things untidy, and to have constantly +to <i>put them to rights</i>, but to <i>keep +them right</i>—to put everything in its own +place <i>at once</i>. This was a new part to +learn in Phœbe’s lesson, but she tried it, +and heartily too; and things were going +on in this way when, just two days before +the month was over, there came a sad +misfortune to her, which took away the +hopes of apple-pies and other things +which her birthday was to bring her.</p> + +<p>All this time she had been going +regularly to Mrs. Nott’s school, and the +schoolmistress was much surprised at the +change in her careless little pupil. Her +companions, too, could not tell what had +come to Phœbe Copland; and as for sly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +Margaret Prettyman, she was filled with +dislike and envy of her little rival; for +Phœbe, having put aside her careless +habits, took her place as first in the class, +and Margaret had been first till now.</p> + +<p>On this particular afternoon Mrs. Nott +had given her girls an additional task to +learn; and Phœbe, having a quarter of an +hour to spare, sat down, as was her habit +sometimes, to look over the lesson before +leaving school. She was putting up her +books, when one of the other girls, Esther +Heywood, came to her with a message +from her (Esther’s) mother, asking Phœbe +to step down to the Mill Farm, where the +Heywoods lived. They had got a jar of +fine citron-preserves, which the sailor son, +Jem, had brought from across the seas to +his mother; and she was going to send +some over to Mrs. Copland to taste.</p> + +<p>“You might leave your books here,” said +Esther, “and I’ll walk back a bit with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +you. We’ll get them when we come.”</p> + +<p>The citron-preserves were very, very +good, and Phœbe was kept a little while +at the Mill Farm to taste them, and to +hear the wonderful things which Jem +Heywood had to tell about the parrots +and the beautiful birds in the countries +where he had been; and then Phœbe +started on her way home over the fields, +and Esther with her. Sailor Jem said +he’d “go a bit too with the girls,” to see +them “under way,” as he called it; and it +ended by Esther and Jem going the whole +way with her, to carry her books, which +they got as they passed the school-house.</p> + +<p>All the evening Jem was telling them +such funny stories that she could not attend +to her lessons, but went to bed quite +tired with laughing, and dreamed that she +was a parrot, and that Jem Heywood was +teaching her tasks off by heart.</p> + +<p>Next morning, with the sunshine, up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +jumped Phœbe, to learn her lessons before +going to school. She felt very happy. The +next day but one was her birthday; and +next day itself Uncle Roger would be +over from Lady’s Mead, she knew, and +then she would tell him how faithfully she +had kept her promise; and how pleased +and kind he would look—she could fancy +she saw his face so well. And singing a +little song to herself, Phœbe sat down at +her bedroom window, opening her books +out before her on her knee. But there +were only three books there, and she +ought to have <i>four</i>.</p> + +<p>How Phœbe sought for that book—through +all her drawers and her little +room, then through the house, and lastly, +down all the lane, and by every step of +the path through the fields which they +had crossed the evening before! Oh, +what a weary search that was, and +what a sad story to tell her mother,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +when, <i>without</i> the book, Phœbe returned.</p> + +<p>If Mrs. Copland looked so vexed, what +would Uncle Roger be? And then all the +happy birthday pleasures which she had +lost! She would have to dine with little +Charlie, she knew, and to feel as if in +disgrace all day; and in disgrace even +Lady’s Mead itself could bring her no +pleasure. Poor little Phœbe!</p> + +<p>Her mother would not allow her to +stay at home from school, but said she +must tell Mrs. Nott the plain truth, and, +if she had time before the class began, +learn the lesson from some of the other +girls’ books. Fortunately, the missing +task was that which Phœbe had learned +before leaving the school the day before; +but, owing to her haste and agitation, it +was so incorrectly repeated that Margaret +Prettyman again triumphantly took her +place at the head of the class. It was +hard enough to see Margaret’s malicious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +face as she pushed past, and Phœbe had +much trouble in choking down her temper +and her tears at the same time.</p> + +<p>The next day Esther Heywood came +to meet her with a very sorrowful face, +and told her that Jem had been “all up +the fields” the evening before, searching +the path they had gone by, and that he +had looked into every nook and corner he +could think of, but he could not see the +book anywhere. His opinion was, though, +that Uncle Roger would never keep to +his word; that he would never disappoint +Phœbe on her birthday for such a trifle.</p> + +<p>Phœbe shook her head. “Uncle Roger +always keeps his word,” she said. “I’ll +be in disgrace, I know, though perhaps I’ll +go to Lady’s Mead all the same; but that +will be quite as bad as not going at all.”</p> + +<p>Hardest of all it was when Uncle +Roger came over that afternoon. Mrs. +Copland had to tell him the story, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +Phœbe was so drowned in tears that she +could not speak a word. Uncle Roger +looked grave when he heard how it was, +but soothed his weeping little niece kindly, +and gave her no reproof. He spoke little +or nothing about the following day, only +saying, while stroking her hair as usual, +“Well, my little maid, we must stick to +our bargain. Apple-pie order must wait +till next year, I fancy; but come over all +the same, and welcome, to Lady’s Mead. +You and Mary-Anne can have your romp +together; and you must forget it’s your +own birthday, that’s all. I’m just about +as much pleased with you for your last +month’s doings as if all your books were +safe in your bag, mind you that; and now +wipe your tears, my little lass.”</p> + +<p>The next morning rose as bright and +beautiful as you could well wish to see, +and Phœbe, seated by her father behind +the old grey horse Robin, with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +mother and Charlie in the back seat, +almost forgot her sorrows while driving +down the sweet, shady lanes in all their +beautiful autumn colours, and while looking +forward to Lady’s Mead, and the +delight of seeing her dear little cousin +Mary-Anne.</p> + +<p>Lady’s Mead was such a pretty place, +with a very large orchard full of rosy-cheeked +apples; and there was a dairy, +large, and cool, and sweet, with great +bowls of delicious milk, and such a beautifully +white, clean floor. Out of doors +there was a swing, and a pretty mossy +summer-house down by the stream, and +such delightful little paths through clipped +yew hedges, and an old sun-dial on the +grass, and in one corner a stone figure of +a little boy kneeling, with his hands +clasped and his face looking up to heaven. +It was altogether such a place as children +did not weary of; and had it not been for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +little Phœbe’s late troubles, she would +have been as joyous as the birds which +were singing in the trees all round them.</p> + +<p>There were many “rubs” to bear, +though; first, the meeting with her uncle +and aunt and Mary-Anne, and receiving +from them no happy birthday wishes as +usual; and then seeing her brother Bob’s +disappointed face when he came over +from the county town where he was +serving his apprenticeship, bringing with +him a nice little parcel, which looked very +like a doll, wrapped up in thin brown +paper, and stowed away in one of his +pockets for his little sister. The parcel +was not taken out, however.</p> + +<p>Cousin Mary-Anne, who was a dear, +good little girl, no sooner heard that +Phœbe was to dine at a side-table with +little Charlie, instead of the treat of +sitting at the great long one with the +older people, than she declared that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +would do so too; and though Phœbe +would not listen to this at first, yet +Mary-Anne would have it so, and it +was accordingly settled. She proved +herself, too, such a good little comforter +and companion, that Phœbe became quite +cheerful again, though perhaps their play +was not quite so merry as usual.</p> + +<p>First they went to the poultry-yard, +where there was a brood of very fine little +ducklings, just hatched, to see. Then to +the dairy, where they both were allowed +to pat away at the butter and make it up +for tea. Then Matty, the dairy-maid, +said that she must leave the dairy, and +that they must go too; so they sauntered +away down by the stream to the pretty +summer-house. They were glad to get +there, because of the shade, for the sun +was hot, and they were tired with butter-making. +So for some little time they sat +resting, and making boats of the large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +leaves, to float down the stream.</p> + +<p>By-and-by they heard a step coming +quickly down the path towards them, and +directly afterwards Bob came hurrying +into the summer-house, saying, “Phœbe, +come along; Uncle Roger’s seeking you.—And +you, Mary-Anne, if you like, you +little duck;” and with that Bob gave a +loud “hurrah,” which made both the girls +spring to their feet in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“But why, Bob?” asked Phœbe excitedly, +as he hurried them along, one in each +hand, as fast as they could go up the path.</p> + +<p>“Never you mind,” said Bob—“you’ll +soon know;” and then he gave another +“hurrah” and jumped like a madman.</p> + +<p>On they rushed, through the orchard, +round the yew hedge, and so past the old +dial, and over the grass, on to the house. +At the window, which was a very large +one, Phœbe saw quite a crowd; for they +were all collected there, and amongst<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +them, to her astonishment, stood tall +Jem Heywood. When she and Bob and +Mary-Anne came in sight, he set up a +cheer, in which little Charlie joined +lustily; and Phœbe turned first red and +then pale, and at last stopped altogether +in fright and bewilderment, dragging the +two others back with her. Then her +father’s face looked out and smiled to her, +and then her mother’s and Aunt Leyton’s; +and then out came Uncle Roger, and +Phœbe was lifted on his shoulder, and +carried through the midst of the smiling +faces to where the dinner was laid out.</p> + +<p>There she saw a little bower of green +branches over a chair at Uncle Roger’s +right hand, at the end of the table; and +on this chair, under the boughs, Uncle +Roger set her down, while before her +rose the most enormous apple-pie you +can imagine! Instead of crust, which it +looked like, its cover was of china-ware;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +and Uncle Roger raised it in his hand +when every one had sat down all round +the table, and there—what do you think? +Phœbe saw the wonderful pie filled, not +with apples, but with beautiful birthday +gifts—Bob’s doll, dressed all in pink +ribbons and lace; a little straw-hat, +trimmed with bright blue ribbons, from +Aunt Leyton; a pretty china cottage, +covered with roses, from Mary-Anne; a +beautiful little work-box, lined with red +silk, and filled with every pretty, useful +thing for sewing, and also a crown-piece +in it, from her father and mother; and +better than all these, a small Bible, +beautifully bound in purple velvet, with +gold clasps, from Uncle Roger; and +beside this lay <i>another book</i>, and with a +cry of surprise Phœbe saw before her, +torn and stained, her own lost lesson-book! +What a cheer rose up all round +the table! And sailor Jem cheered louder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +than any one. But all this joy was too +much for poor Phœbe, and she fell +a-crying on Uncle Roger’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>If any of you wish to know how the +lost book was found again, I must tell +you what Jem Heywood said about it, +though it won’t be in his own words.</p> + +<p>He had been down the evening before +at Mrs. Prettyman’s (Margaret’s mother), +and one of the little ones having come +toddling into the room, Jem had lifted +it on his knee, taking as he did so a +crushed, torn book out of its hand. On +the fly-leaf, though almost torn away, +Jem read, to his surprise, the first letters +of Phœbe’s name. The child said it had +got the book “in Maggie’s bag.” Then +Margaret came in herself, and Jem asked +her what was the meaning of this. Her +angry, guilty face and confused replies +immediately roused his suspicions; and +on going home he took care to let his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +sister Esther know all he had seen and +heard. The truth was soon found out. +It was Margaret who had done this spiteful +thing, to bring disgrace upon Phœbe.</p> + +<p>Can you all picture to yourselves +Phœbe’s joy on this happy evening? +How grateful she was to Jem Heywood, +and how the hours flew away, supper-time +coming before the games seemed half +done! Phœbe found time, though, for +a long, happy talk with Uncle Roger; +and it was then she told him how she had +made up her mind not to quarrel with +Margaret because of all this, but to try, if +possible, to be better friends than before; +for she now saw, she said, that their +quarrelling had brought all this about.</p> + +<p>I may as well add here, as some of you +may wish to know, that Phœbe’s resolution +had its own reward, for her change of +conduct seemed to bring about a change +in Margaret’s too. Of course this took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +some time, for bad feelings cannot be +rooted up all at once. But as the months +passed on, every one could see a great +improvement in Margaret. Little beginnings +often bring much greater endings; +and Margaret could look back afterwards +to this time with feelings of gratitude for +the lesson which had been taught her by +means of one forgiving little heart.</p> + +<p>On this birthday night Uncle Roger +was much pleased to hear Phœbe speak +as she did; and her happiness was quite +full when, drawing her on his knee, he +added, “And my little Phœbe has shown +me that, with God’s help, she has learned +the meaning of ‘<span class="smcap">Apple-pie order</span>.’”</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF A ROBIN***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 24970-h.txt or 24970-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/9/7/24970">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/9/7/24970</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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