MORE ABOUT OUR ROBIN. gS 
as 1f he did it on purpose. ‘Then he would stare at us 
with his black eye full of fun. 
A Chinaman with a vegetable cart came to our house 
three times a week, and Robby grew to know him and 
his wagon. He knew the sound of the wagon before 
it was in sight. He was always afraid of strangers, 
but this Chinaman he loved and trusted. He would hop 
to his cage door to meet him, and open his bill for the 
strawberry which “John” never forgot in berry season. 
He was fond of meat of any kind, taking it salted 
and cooked or raw. But he would never touch bird 
flesh of any sort, — chicken or quail or turkey,— though 
we many a time ran to the cage calling, “Quick, 
Robby,” just to surprise him. He would look dis- 
gusted and turn his head away, as if to say, “No, 
thank you: I am not a cannibal.” He would not 
taste of sugar, but was fond of gingerbread and cake. 
During our long dry season of many months, Robby 
had a way of his own to keep cool and moist. His 
bath was an oblong china vegetable dish, which held 
water enough to cover him at full length. 
When the days were warm and dry, and Robin some- 
how missed the rain which he had never seen in summer 
time, he would hop into the bath and sit or lie down. 
The water covered him up to his ears; and there he 
would sit for an hour at a time, blinking and dozing, 
as if he were a real water bird. He would take food 
from our hands, too lazy and contented to stir out of 
the water. 
