Robin Redbreast Merry Robin Redbreast
"Robin, robin redbreast,
Singing on the bough,
Come and get your breakfast,
We will feed you now.
Robin likes the golden grain,
Nods his head and sings again:
'Chirping, chirping cheerily,
Here I come so merrily,
Thank you, children dear!'"
Thus sang Phyllis one morning during the second week in March.
In the topmost
altogether doubtful as to whether he liked the little girl's song.
But when he saw the grains of wheat which the child was scattering on
the ground for his breakfast, he thought better of his doubt.
He hopped lower on the branches. He turned his little head on one side
and looked at Phyllis in a very friendly fashion.
"Come on down!" Phyllis begged. "I am so glad that you have returned.
I am so glad that you came to this very apple-tree and sang so strong
and loud and clear!"
"Chirp! Chirp!" and the robin hopped again nearer.
"You see," Phyllis went on, in her coaxing little voice, "my brother
Jack, being a boy, said he would be the one to see the first robin this
year.
"But I made up my mind that if watchful eyes and careful ears could
help a little girl, I would get ahead of Jack.
"Sure enough, the first thing I heard this morning was your sweet song.
When did you arrive? Aren't you rather early?"
By this time the robin was on the ground, pecking away at the grain.
As he ate his breakfast he told his story.
"I have been south all winter long," he said. "It is very lovely in
the southland. Food is plenty, the days are long, and the sunshine is
golden, bright, and warm.
"But as soon as the spring days came I grew restless. I knew the snow
was beginning to melt and the grass to grow green in my old home
country. I wanted to start north at once.
"I spoke to my little mate about it, and found her to be as homesick as
I. So we flew north a little earlier than usual this year, and arrived
ahead of the others. We are now quite anxious to get to housekeeping,
and are already looking for a suitable place for a nest."
"If you will build near us," said Phyllis, "I will help you care for
your little ones. I will give you all the crumbs that you can eat."
"Oh! oh!" chirped the robin; "you are very kind, Phyllis, but I hardly
think you would know how to feed bird babies.
"You see our babies are so fond of bugs and worms and all sorts of
insects, that they do not care for crumbs when they can have nice fat
worms.
"We sometimes feed berries and cherries to our babies. We older birds
often eat fruit, but really we like worms and bugs better."
"The robins ate all the cherries from the top of our cherry-tree last
year," said Phyllis.
"Yes, we did eat some of your cherries," admitted the robin. "They
were very sweet and juicy.
"There are people who say that we robins are a nuisance, and that we
destroy so much fruit that they wish we would never come near them.
The fact is, we do more good than harm to your orchards and berry
patches. Just think how many insects we destroy! If it were not for
us I think much more fruit would be destroyed by insects. And worms
and caterpillars would be crawling everywhere.
"A robin is a very greedy fellow. He eats nearly all the time. I
could not begin to tell you how many insects I have eaten during my
life.
"There are cutworms, too, which live underground. During the night
they come out for food. We robins are early risers, and often catch
the slow worms before they can get back to their underground homes."
"Ah," laughed Phyllis, "that must be the reason that we say that the
early bird catches the worm."
"When our babies come," said the robin, "we are very busy, indeed.
Those young mouths seem always to be open, begging for more food.
"My mother says that when I was a baby robin she was kept busy all day
long.
"There were four baby birds in the nest. I myself ate about seventy
worms in a day. My brother and sisters had as good appetites as I."
"Will you build here in the apple-tree?" asked Phyllis. "I should so
like to watch you. Besides, there is a garden just beneath with
millions of bugs and insects there."
"Oh, yes," replied the robin. "We shall surely build there. You will
find that robins like to build near your home. We have a very friendly
feeling towards people. That is the reason that we hop about your lawn
so much and that we waken you by singing near your window in the early
morning."
"I have heard that robins are not very good nest-builders," said
Phyllis. "I was told that a great number of robins' nests were blown
down by every hard storm."
"More are destroyed than I like to think about," said the robin. "But
my father and mother raised three families of birds in their nest last
season.
"Early in the spring they were very busy about their nest-building.
First they brought sticks, straw, weeds, and roots. With these they
laid the foundation in what seemed a very careless fashion, among the
boughs.
"Then here on this foundation they wove the round nest of straws and
weeds. They plastered it with mud. They lined it with soft grasses
and moss.
"In this nest my mother laid four beautiful greenish-blue eggs. From
the first egg that cracked open I crept out. From the three other eggs
came my brother and sisters.
"We were not handsome babies. I don't believe bird babies ever are
beautiful at first. We had no feathers, and our mouths were so big and
yellow.
"We were always hungry, for we were growing very fast. Our mouths flew
open at every little noise. We thought every sound was the flutter of
our parents' wings. They always brought such fine food for us."
The robin pecked away at his breakfast for some time before he spoke
again. Then he again took up the story of his life.
"How well I remember being taught to fly," he said. "How our mother
coaxed us to try our wings. How timid and feeble we were One of my
sisters fell to the ground and a great gray cat caught her.
"Our wings were very weak then and our feathers were still short. I
then had no beautiful red breast. It was just a rusty looking white
spotted with black.
"My mother's breast was not so red as my father's. She was of a paler
colour and she sang much less than he. She was a very happy little
mother, however, and she chirped very sweetly to her babies.
"After we flew from the nest, and were able to look out for ourselves,
my mother laid four more greenish-blue eggs in the same nest. By and
bye four more young robins were chirping about in the garden.
"Quite late in the season my parents were again nesting. But it was
rather unfortunate that they did so. A great storm came up and a
branch broke from the tree and destroyed the four blue eggs.
"It was shortly after this mishap that the robins flew south for the
winter.
"My brother, who was always a brave, cheery fellow, thought he would
rather stay here. I wonder how he fared. I have not yet seen him."
"I have not seen him lately, but he was here during the winter," said
Phyllis. "I dare say you will find him soon."
"Well," said the robin, picking up the last grain of wheat, "I thank
you, Phyllis, for this fine breakfast.
"I will only say 'good morning.' I think you will see me again.
Perhaps I will show you where we build our nest."
"I am grateful to you," replied Phyllis. "You see the cherry-tree
grows beside Jack's window. You might have sung your morning song
there."
More
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A Good-night
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If Jack's big black dog, Nero, had not chanced to snatch Phyllis's rag doll by the head and run away with it this story would have never been written. You see, Nero bounded straight across the meadow and Phyllis, fearing that she would lose the d... The Owl
When cats run home, and light is come And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round, Alone and warming his five wits The white owl in the be... The Owl
When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail; When blood is nipped and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl, "Tu-who!... The Owl And The Raven
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Once a very queer little girl lived in a village beside the great Yukon River. This little girl did not care to play with other children. Indeed, all day long she would sit inside the stone hut and sleep. But as soon as evening came the little... The Red-headed Woodpecker In Cap Of Red
Phyllis sat in her own room, rocking her doll to sleep. The window was open and the curtain flapped idly in the breeze. Presently into the room darted a bird. He was beautifully dressed. His soft gray uniform was spotted and barred with white. ... The Robin's Red Breast
It was very cold in the north country. The ice was thick and the snow was deep. The seal and the white bear were happy. They liked the ice, the snow, and the cutting north wind, for their fur was thick and warm. One night the great white bear... The Sandpiper
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One hot August day Phyllis went to the seashore to live. "Such fun," she cried, as the train drew up at the seaside station. "Such fun as I shall have playing in the sand and wading in the water." It was not half an hour before she was running a... The Snowbird's Song
The ground was all covered with snow, one day, And two little sisters were busy at play-- A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree, And merrily singing his chick-a-de-dee! He had not been singing that tune very long, When Emily hear... The Song Of The Merry Lark
Once there was an old gray pussy, and she went down into the meadow, where she saw a merry lark flying among the tall reeds; and pussy said, "Where are you going, little lark?" And the merry lark answered, "I am going to the king to sing him a son... The Swallow Under The Eaves
It was the tenth day of April. Phyllis knew the date because it chanced to be her birthday. She was just eight years old. The sun shone very warm and bright, and the buds were growing big and red on the horse-chestnut-trees. "I shall go down ... The Swallows
Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff. The children chattered and laughed. They ran gaily to an... Twenty Little Chickadees
Twenty little chickadees, Sitting in a row; Twenty pairs of naked feet Buried in the snow. I should think you'd fly away Where the weather's warm, Then you wouldn't have to be Out there in the storm. Sorry little chi... Which Was The Wiser?
One morning in the early spring a raven was sitting on one of the branches of an old oak. He felt very ugly and cross, and could only say, "Croak! Croak!" Soon a little robin, who was looking for a place to build her nest, came, with a merry so...