ROBIN 
But the noise of the carpenters within a few feet of him drove 
him away; and he went down in the orchard, and set up housekeep- 
ing on an apple branch that did not seem to me much farther from 
the building. His music was even finer in quality, and his dispo- 
sition friendlier than the year before. All the workmen about the 
cabin were under special instructions concerning him and, just as 
I thought his brood would come off safely, a new man was put on 
the gang. I did not notice the man's arrival from the house in 
which we lived on the premises, but seeing that they were running 
a veranda on the new house close to the Robin's tree I hurried out 
for his protection only to meet him coming for me, screaming, 
frantically, "Kip, kip, kip!" and uttering sharp alarm cries. 
I ran, but it was too late. His branch had brushed across the 
face of the new workman as he set up a pillar, and, whirling, with 
one stroke of his hatchet he slashed through a limb as thick as his 
wrist and it fell to the ground, tore off the nest and broke the 
eggs. Any member of that gang is qualified to tell what I say 
and do when angry. Then I was sure we should lose our bird, 
but he went up to the front of the lot and located thirty feet 
high in a big elm and came to the well and for food as usual. 
That gang was broken to birds, however, for a few days later 
the foreman came to the door, grinning sheepishly, and told me 
that a pair of Pigeons had built a nest at the base of a big chim- 
ney, that turned and twisted its way to completion, carrying 
drafts for five fireplaces, and at a last turn, just as it cleared the 
attic rafters, the birds had built and laid their pair of beautiful 
eggs and were brooding and he didn't know what to do. 
"Let them alone," I said. "Don't allow a man to touch them." 
"But we are going to shingle," he said. 
"Then shingle!" I retorted. "You will be fifteen feet above 
the bird." 
217 
