98 CITIZEN BIRD 



*' It is easy to tell the plump, well-fed birds, just 

 home from the South, from those who have been obliged 

 to live on half rations during tlie northern winter. 



" Before this flying army quite leaves the Southern 

 States some of them halt for nest-building, and then 

 the Robin sings the best of all his songs, — his happy, 

 cheery melody, — all about the earth, the sky, the sun, 

 the tree he and his mate have chosen to build in, — a 

 song of the little brook where he means to get the 

 water to wet the clay to plaster his nest, — a ballad 

 of the blue eggs it will hold, and the greedy little 

 Robins, all eyes and mouth, that will come out of 

 them. But as he sings something frightens him ; then 

 he cries, 'quick! quick! quick! ' and hurries away in 

 a rather clumsy fashion. If any one could understand 

 the meaning of all that the Robin says and put it into 

 our words, we should be able to make a very good dic- 

 tionary of the language of Birdland." 



" I've noticed how different his songs are," said Rap 

 eagerly, " and how some of his ways are like the Blue- 

 bird's, too. We had a Robin's nest last season in the 

 grape vine over the back door, and I used to watch 

 them all the time — " and then Rap hesitated in great 

 confusion, for fear that he had been impolite in stopping 

 the Doctor. 



" Tell us about your Robins, my boy ; we shall like 

 to hear the story. Don't look so troubled, but say 

 exactly what you saw them do." 



Rap wriggled about a little, then settled himself com- 

 fortably with his chin resting on the top of his crutch, 

 and began : " It was the year that my leg was hurt. 

 The miller was chopping a tree and it fell the wrong 



