THE AMERICAN ROBIN. 



The Bird of the Morning. 



Yes, my dear readers, I am the 

 bird of the morning. Yery few 

 of you rise early enough to hear 

 my first song. By the time you 

 are awake our little ones have 

 had their breakfast, Mrs. Robin 

 and I have had our morning bath 

 and we are all ready to greet 

 you with our morning song. 



I wonder if any of you have 

 seen our nest and can tell the 

 color of the eggs that Mrs. Robin 

 lays. Some time I will let you 

 peep into the nest and see them, 

 but of course you will not touch 

 them. 



I wonder, too, if you know any 

 of my cousins — the Mocking 

 bird, the Cat bird or the Brown 

 Thrush — I think I shall ask 

 them to have their pictures taken 

 soon and talk to you about our 

 gay times. 



Did you ever see one of my 

 cousins on the ground? I don't 



believe you can tell how I move 

 about. Some of you may say I 

 run, and some of you may say I 

 hop, and others of you may say 

 I do both. AVell, I'll tell you 

 how to find out. Just watch me 

 and see. My little friend's up 

 north won't be able to see me 

 though until next month, as I dc 

 not dare leave the warm south 

 until Jack Frost leaves the 

 ground so I can find worms to 

 eat. 



I shall be about the first bird 

 to visit you next month and I 

 want you to watch for me. 

 When I do come it will be to 

 stay a long time, for I shall be 

 the last to leave you. Just 

 think, the first to come and last 

 to leave. Don't you think we 

 ought to be great friends ? Let 

 us get bettef acquainted wher 

 next we meet. Your friend, 



Robin. 



=H OW do the robins build their nest?, 

 Robin Red Breast told me, 

 First a wisp of yellow hay 

 In a pretty round they lay ; 

 Then some shreds of downy floss, 

 Feathers too, and bits of moss, 

 Woven with a sweet, sweet song. 

 This way, that way, and across : 

 That's what Robin told me. 



Where do the robins hide their nest' 

 Robin Red Breast told me, 

 Up among the leaves so deep, 

 Where the sunbeams rarely creep. 

 Long before the winds are cold, 

 Long before the leaves are gold 

 Bright-eyed stars will peep and see 

 Baby Robins — one, two, three : 

 That's what Robin told me. 



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