THE BIRD OF THE MORNING. 11 



and worked for him. As for making an effort 

 for himself, the notion never entered his head. 



Not long after I saw one of the same brood 

 seated on a twig and asking to be fed. I was 

 quite near, and the robin papa hesitated to 

 come. Master Robin called more and more 

 sharply, drawing up his wings without opening 

 them, exactly like a shrug of the shoulders, 

 and jerking his body in such a way that it 

 looked like stamping his foot. It was a funny 

 exhibition of youthful imperiousness, and re- 

 sembled what in a child we call " spunkiness." 



One of the most interesting entertainments 

 of the later days was to hear the young bird's 

 music lesson. In the early morning the father 

 would place himself in the thickest part of the 

 tree, not as usual in plain sight on the top, and 

 with his pupil near him would begin, " Cheery ! 

 cheery ! be cheery ! " in a loud, clear voice ; and 

 then would follow a feeble, wavering, uncertain 

 attempt to copy the song. Again papa would 

 chant the first strain, and baby would pipe out 

 his funny notes. This was kept up, till in a 

 surprisingly short time, after much daily prac- 

 tice both with the copy and without, I could 

 hardly tell father from son. 



The baby robin taken apart from his kind is 

 an interesting study. Before he can fairly bal- 

 ance himself on his uncertain, wavering little 



