Both of them were scared almost out of their wits. (Page 37) (Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)Both of them were scared almost out of their wits.(Page 37)(Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)
Both of them were scared almost out of their wits.(Page 37)(Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)
Widow Blunt took the owl up the stepladder with her, and tied it fast in the cherry tree, then she went back into her house and looked out through the kitchen window.
She had not waited long before Robert Robin came to get another cherry. He perched on a limb and was picking out a nice red ripe one to take home to Elizabeth when he saw something shine. It was the stuffed owl’s glass eye.
Robert Robin saw the big fierce owl so close to him that he was so frightened he dropped the cherry and screamed, “Help! Help!” and almost fell out of the tree, and just then Mrs. Robin came and almost sat right beside the big owl, and she screamed, “Help! Help!” and almost fell out of the tree, and both of them were scared almost out of their wits, and they flew over to the harvest apple tree and Robert Robin said, “Tut! Tut! Tut!—Tut! Tut! Tut!” and every time he said, “Tut!” he jerked his tail.
Widow Blunt sat in her splint-bottomed chair by her kitchen window and laughed and laughed, and laughed. “That poor robin thought he was a goner!” she said to herself. “That old owl is good for something, after all!”
Widow Blunt’s full-blooded Plymouth Rock Rooster came around the house with four hens. He was going to show the hens where the cherries were falling on the ground. One of the hens saw the big owl sitting in the cherry tree.
“See that terrible bird in the tree!” she said. Mister Rooster looked up and saw Mister Sparrow sitting in the English currant bush.
“I could eat four birds like that one!” said the rooster.
“You are very brave!” said the hen, “but something tells me that I do not care for cherries to-day!” and the hen started running for the barn.
Just then Mister Rooster saw the big owl.
“Ca-daa-cut! Ca-daa-cut!” he screamed. “Run for your lives!” and the big roosterwas one of the first to get under the barn.
Widow Blunt rocked back and forth in her splint-bottomed chair and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. “It is better than a vaudeville!” she said.
Mister Samson Crow came flying over, and he saw the big owl sitting in Widow Blunt’s early cherry tree.
Samson Crow was very much surprised to see an owl sitting in a cherry tree in the daytime, and he said to himself: “My eyes are fairly good, and they tell me that a whole owl is sitting in that tree!” Then Samson Crow flew down to where Robert Robin was saying, “Tut! Tut! Tut!” in the harvest apple tree.
“I am very glad that you came, Mister Crow!” said Robert Robin. “Please drive that ugly owl out of that cherry tree so that I may get some more cherries for my baby robins!”
“That is what I am going to do!” said Samson Crow. “But what puzzles me is why any owl would be sitting in a cherry tree right near a house, in broad daylight!Why is he there, and what does he want?”
“I have no doubt but that he is after my cherries!” said Robert Robin.
“That is all I care to know about it!” said Samson Crow. “I will drive him out of your tree this very minute!”
Samson Crow flew straight at the owl. The big owl glared at him with its great glass eyes and never moved. “Caw! Caw!” screamed Samson Crow, but the big owl sat perfectly still. Around and around the tree flew Samson Crow, but the big owl sat perfectly still. Samson Crow perched on a branch and shouted at the big owl, but the big owl did not even turn his head, nor change the steady gaze of his great glass eyes. “Help! Help!” screamed Samson Crow, and he flew away to the woods, and Widow Blunt laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and rocked backwards and forwards in her splint-bottomed chair.
Robert Robin kept waiting, and saying, “Tut! Tut! Tut!—Tut! Tut! Tut!” and wishing that the big owl would fly away, but the big owl did not move, and just staredstraight ahead with his great glass eyes.
About four o’clock Widow Blunt put on her sunbonnet and her cotton gloves with the fingers cut off, and with an eight-quart tin pail with strips of zinc soldered across the bottom of it, she climbed the stepladder and picked eight quarts of ripe red cherries from her early cherry tree, and the big stuffed owl watched her with his great glass eyes, and never said a word.
Then the Widow Blunt took her eight-quart pail full of ripe red cherries into her kitchen and set it on the kitchen table, then she went back to where her stepladder was standing under the cherry tree, and climbed her stepladder once more and untied the stuffed owl, and put him under her arm, and carried him back to her parlor and put him on the mantelpiece and set the big glass dome over him, to keep the dust off.
Widow Blunt carried her stepladder back into her woodhouse, then she hung her sunbonnet on a nail behind the kitchen door, and put her cotton gloves in the secretary drawer, where she would know where to findthem when the berry-picking season came. Widow Blunt then looked out of the kitchen window, and saw Robert Robin picking one of her ripe red cherries. Then Widow Blunt sat down in her splint-bottomed chair by the kitchen window and watched Robert Robin and Mrs. Robert Robin come and pick her cherries.
“Those robins will not let any of my cherries go to waste,” she said. “But I suppose they have a large family to feed, and eight quarts is all I need for myself!” And Widow Blunt rocked backwards and forwards in her splint-bottomed chair and watched the robins, and the next thing she knew the clock struck six and woke her up.
“Mercy! I went to sleep in my chair!” she said. “Now I will have to hurry to get those cherries canned before dark!”
“Where did the big owl go?” asked Mrs. Robin of Robert Robin.
“A woman caught him and carried him away, but he ate many of the very best cherries before she caught him!” said Mister Robert Robin.
CHAPTER IVMISTER ROBERT ROBIN HAS AN ADVENTURE WITH THE FARMER’S MALTESE CAT
It was a beautiful morning. The sun had just lifted his bright face above the eastern hills; the dew was still glistening on the leaves, and Mister Robert Robin was perched in the very top of his big basswood tree singing his “Sun-up” song.
He looked very handsome in his dark brown topcoat and his red vest, as he finished singing his “Sun-up” song and looked around to see what he could see.
From the meadow came the sound of Bob-o-link’s “Spingle! Spangle!” song, and David Songsparrow was singing his seven morning songs, and even Jeremiah Yellowbird was doing his best to make his little voice ring through the woods as Robert Robin’s mellow notes had sounded a moment before.
But Robert Robin was not listening to the other birds, he was looking to see what he could see.
The fields were green, for rain had fallen the day before, and the tangle of wild-rose bushes along the fence had burst into bloom. From the high place where he sat, Robert Robin could see the pink blossoms, and when the wind blew from their direction, he could smell the perfume of the flowers.
The farmer’s sheep were in their pasture, and the little lambs were frisking and playing with each other. A pile of lumber lay near the pasture gate, and the little lambs were running and jumping off the lumber pile. They were having great fun, and Robert Robin felt like laughing as he watched them.
Suddenly Robert Robin sat up very straight and jerked his tail up and down three times and said, “Tut! Tut! Tut!” He saw the farmer’s Maltese cat walking along on the rail fence, and the cat was coming towards the woods.
“I am afraid that big cat is coming over here!” said Robert Robin to himself. Mrs.Robin heard Robert Robin saying, “Tut! Tut! Tut!” so she came to see what was the matter.
“There is a big Maltese cat coming towards our tree!” said Robert Robin.
“Where is it?” asked Mrs. Robin, who was very much excited.
“On the rail fence!” said Robert Robin. “It is the same cat that I saw in the farmer’s garden!”
“That terrible cat will eat our baby robins!” said Mrs. Robin. “You must fly right at him and scare him away!”
“Perhaps it would be better to wait and see if something doesn’t happen!” said Robert Robin.
The big cat did not seem to be in any hurry. He walked slowly along the rail fence until he came to the brook. There were no rails across the brook, only a panel of wire fencing—so the big cat sprang to the ground and walked along the brook until he came to a place where the brook was narrow, then the farmer’s Maltese cat crouched and sprang across the brook at one leap.
“He is surely coming to our woods!” said Mrs. Robin, and Robert Robin was so frightened that all he could say was “Tut! Tut! Tut!”
The great cat tiptoed across the corner of the pasture, and crept under the fence. He was now in the meadow next to the woods, and was walking slowly towards Mister Robert Robin’s tree. Every few moments he would stand still and look all around. Once he sat down for several minutes, and Robert Robin was hoping that he would not come any nearer the woods. Mrs. Bee was buzzing around the basswood blossoms, and Robert Robin said:
“Mrs. Bee, you are a very good friend of mine! Please fly down there and sting that big cat for me! It will only take you a moment and it will be a great favor!” But Mrs. Bee was busy filling her bag with honey, and had no time to bother, stinging cats.
Mister Jim Crow came flying past and Robert Robin called to him: “Oh! Mister Crow! Fly right straight at that cat and scare him out of his wits!”
“Oh! Let him alone!” said Jim Crow, “he is only catching meadow mice!”
And Jim Crow flew over into the other woods.
Then nearer and nearer the big cat crept towards Robert Robin’s tree. Mister Kingbird came fluttering his wings and screaming, “King! King! King!” but though he feared no hawk nor owl he was afraid of the big cat and would not go anywhere near him.
The farmer’s big Maltese cat was standing almost under Robert Robin’s tree. He was swinging his long tail from side to side, and looking at Robert Robin with his green eyes. The big cat was thinking to himself, “I would like to have that robin for my breakfast!”
But Robert Robin had no fear of the cat catching him; he was afraid that the animal might climb his big basswood tree and eat his baby robins.
“I will climb that big basswood tree and catch Mister Robin!” said the big cat to himself. Then he crawled under the fenceand started climbing up the big tree. The big basswood was very tall and straight, and as the farmer’s cat climbed higher and higher he saw Mister and Mrs. Robert Robin sitting in a maple tree screaming at him with all their might.
“What is the use of my climbing this tall tree when the birds are in the top of the other one?” the cat asked himself. “I think that I will slide down!”
The big cat slid down the big basswood tree and when he came to the ground, he saw Mister Gabriel Chipmunk sitting on top of his old home stump shouting “Chip! Chip!” as loudly as he could scream.
“Ho! Ho!” said the Maltese cat, “there is a striped squirrel for my breakfast!” and the big cat tiptoed towards Mister Gabriel Chipmunk. But Mister Chipmunk was watching the big cat all the while, and he was all ready to jump into his hole.
Somewhere in the woods a twig snapped, and Robert Robin looked and saw an animal coming through the woods. It was a big bulldog, and he was out for a walk.
The big bulldog did not like cats, and if there was any one thing which he liked to do, it was to chase cats. He did like to see them run.
When he saw the farmer’s big Maltese cat, he said “Woof!” and the big cat forgot all about Mister Chipmunk, and forgot all about Robert Robin, and ran for the fence.
“Woof! Woof!” roared the bulldog. “Pstt! Pstt!” said the cat, and the cat jumped through the fence, and the dog jumped through the fence, and the cat jumped back through the fence, and the dog jumped back through the fence, and then the cat ran up an elm tree which stood outside the woods, and the big bulldog put both of his front paws against the tree, and said “Woof! Woof! Woof!” Then the dog sat down and barked at the cat, and the cat laid his ears back close to his head and growled at the dog.
The big bulldog laughed and showed all his teeth and said, “Come down and take a walk, Kitty! Come down and take a walk, Kitty!” Then the dog sat down and waitedthree hours for the cat to come down.
The farmer’s Maltese cat did not like to stay in the elm tree. The sun was hot and some little flies kept trying to get into his ears, but the dog was sitting in the shade, and he was thinking to himself, “That cat will come down soon, and then I will give him another race! I do enjoy seeing those fraidy cats run!”
Robert Robin did not like to have the farmer’s cat anywhere around, and he kept saying “Tut! Tut! Tut!” but Mrs. Robin went and got the baby robins their breakfasts.
The sun kept getting hotter and hotter, and the farmer’s big cat kept getting warmer and warmer. “I shall roast in this tree!” he said to himself. “This is the last time that I will ever come into these woods! I had no idea that a big bulldog lived here!”
After a long time the big bulldog happened to remember a bone which he had buried in the garden, and the more he thought about the bone, the hungrier he became,so at last he looked up at the farmer’s Maltese cat and said:
“Woof! The next time I see you, Kitty! The next time I see you, Kitty!”
And the farmer’s Maltese cat growled at the big bulldog and said, “If my dog was here he would eat you up!”
Then Mister Bulldog laughed and showed all his teeth and said, “The next time I see you, Kitty!” And then he went back to the place where he was visiting and dug up the bone, and it was even better than he had expected.
When the dog had gone, the farmer’s Maltese cat slid down the elm tree and ran all the way home, and found that the farmer’s long-eared hound dog had eaten all the breakfast which the farmer’s wife had put in the cat dish.
And Mister Robert Robin said to Mrs. Robin: “I hope that nice bulldog stays all summer!”
And every time the farmer’s big Maltese cat looked at the woods he said to himself, “That is the place where that bulldog lives!”
CHAPTER VROBERT ROBIN SINGS HIS CHERRY SONG
Robert Robin was very happy. The cherries were ripe, and from the top of his tall basswood tree he could see dozens of cherry trees laden with the ripe, red fruit.
The little robins were very fond of cherries, and they never forgot to pop the pits, so that under Robert Robin’s basswood tree there were soon great quantities of cherry pits.
One day the farmer and his hired man were coming through the woods, and they saw the cherry pits scattered around under the big basswood.
“Look at those cherry pits!” said the hired man.
“Those are not cherry pits, they are basswood bobs!” said the farmer.
“No! They are cherry pits!” said the hired man.
“Ha! Ha!” laughed the farmer. “Cherries do not grow on basswood trees!”
“I guess that I know a cherry pit when I see one!” said the hired man. “And if those are not cherry pits, I’ll fry my mittens and eat ’em for supper!”
“The trouble with you, Hank, is that you are never willing to give up when you are wrong!” said the farmer. “How could so many cherry pits be under a basswood tree?”
Just then, one of the baby robins “popped” a pit, and the little cherry stone rattled against the branches of the basswood and fell to the ground near the hired man’s feet.
The farmer picked it up and said: “Now, look here, Hank! There is no use of your standing there and telling me that that is a cherry pit, when both of us saw it drop off that basswood! Cherry pits don’t drop off basswood trees, and for you to try to tell me that I don’t know the difference between a cherry tree and a basswood tree is going just a little bit too far!”
“Maybe you’re right!” said the hired man.
“There ain’t no ‘maybe’ about it!” said the farmer. “I am most generally right when it comes to understanding nature!”
“All except when you pulled up that poison ivy, barehanded!” said the hired man, and both of them laughed, and the farmer said:
“Those basswood bobs did look so much like cherry pits, that they would have fooled anybody but an expert!”
And the hired man said: “They looked so much like cherry pits that the next time I am over this way, I am going to get some of them, and plant ’em in a box and raise me a cherry orchard!”
After the farmer and his hired man had gone, Mister Gabriel Chipmunk came out from under his old home stump. Mister Chipmunk was worried. He did not know what he was going to have to eat next winter.
So he sat on top of his old home stumpand tried to think where he could find something to put in his granary bins.
Jeremiah Yellowbird sat in a bush near by, and when he saw Mister Chipmunk keeping so still, he said to him:
“What makes you so quiet to-day, Mister Chipmunk?”
“I am worried about what I will have to eat next winter, Mister Yellowbird! There are no beechnuts, this year, the wild-pea crop is a failure, the farmer has no fields of grain near my woods, and I have not seen a groundnut for six seasons!”
“Can’t you find something to take the place of those things?” asked Mister Yellowbird.
“If the country was what it used to be, I would not worry a bit. But every year it gets worse and worse! Why, last winter, Mrs. Chipmunk and I had a miserable time living through the winter on wild buckwheat! My grandfather would have starved rather than eat wild buckwheat! And he would have starved, all right, if he had boarded at our house last winter, for wildbuckwheat was all that we had! Imagine me, the monarch of all the woods, living on wild buckwheat!”
“Are you the monarch of the woods, Mister Chipmunk?” asked Jeremiah Yellowbird.
“I would like to know who has a better right to be called the ‘monarch of the woods,’” said Gabriel Chipmunk. “When I sit on my old home stump and say ‘Chip! Chip! Chip!’ everyone knows that I am taking care of the woods, and if I did not keep a sharp lookout when men, and dogs, and cats come around, there would be many lives lost! A monarch is supposed to take care of his realm, and then I have plenty of time to be monarch, and I like the work, so that makes me the ‘monarch of the woods.’”
Something fell from the big basswood tree. It was a cherry pit which one of the baby robins had “popped.”
“Was that a nut which fell from the big basswood?” asked Gabriel Chipmunk. But Jeremiah Yellowbird did not know, so Mister Chipmunk hurried over to see, and whenGabriel Chipmunk saw all the nice cherry pits scattered on the ground under the big basswood, he was very much pleased, for Gabriel Chipmunk and all his folks liked cherry pits.
Mister Chipmunk filled his two big pockets with the nice cherry pits, and ran for home as fast as his little legs would carry him.
Gabriel Chipmunk’s pockets were in his cheeks, and when he had both pockets full of cherry pits, his head looked larger than all the rest of him. Billy Rabbit saw him running through the woods. “Who on earth is that?” said Billy Rabbit to himself. “That big head is running around without anybody! Help! Help!” and Billy Rabbit ran home and told Mrs. Rabbit that he had just seen a terrible head running through the woods.
When Gabriel Chipmunk got home he dumped his two pocketsful of nice cherry pits into his granary bins, and called Mrs. Chipmunk to come and help him, and both of them worked as fast as they could and ina very short time all the nice cherry pits from under Robert Robin’s big basswood tree were safe and snug in Mister Gabriel Chipmunk’s granary under his old home stump.
Both of them were so tired that they went to bed and slept until the next morning.
Towards night Mister Robert Robin perched on the top of his big basswood and sang his “Cherry Song,” and while he was singing he heard some one coming through the woods. It was the farmer’s hired man. He was going to get some of the cherry pits to plant in a box.
He scuffed his feet among the leaves, and looked, and looked, but he could not find even just one cherry pit.
“Where did all those cherry pits go?” he asked himself. “There was forty-’leven hundred of ’em here this forenoon, and now they are as scarce as hen’s teeth! Some bird must have picked up every last one of them! I wouldn’t have cared, only I was so sure about their bein’ cherry pits, and the farmer hates to get beat in an argument—but nowI’ll never hear the last of fryin’ them mittens.”
The hired man climbed over the fence and stood still. He was listening to Robert Robin’s cherry song.
“Cherry sweeter!Cherry sweeter!Cherry sweet!Cherry sweet!Call Peter—Call Peter!Call Pete,Call Pete!Cherry sweet!Cherry sweeter!Cherry sweet!”
“That robin is a fine singer, and he is singing about cherries all right!” said the hired man, “and if I knew as much as he does about what became of those cherry pits, I could go right to ’em, this minute!”
CHAPTER VIMISTER ROBIN DECIDES TO TAKE A VACATION
The days sped by, and the baby robins grew so fast that very soon the four filled the nest chock-full, and so one day Robert Robin was not much surprised to see two of them standing up in the nest.
“Sit down at once, children!” he said. “You might fall out and frighten your mother!”
But the next day little Sheldon hopped out of the nest and stood beside it, and Elizabeth insisted upon standing so near the edge of the nest that Mrs. Robin was very nervous for fear she would upset the nest and spill Montgomery and Evelina to the ground.
“Do sit down, child!” said Robert Robin. “Your mother does not like to have you stand up in the nest that way!” But Elizabeth gave a great jump and in a moment she was standing on a big limb fluttering herwings, and getting ready to fly. Then little Sheldon gave a great jump and flew clear into the maple tree. Mrs. Robin was very much excited, and was screaming loudly, and Robert Robin was saying, “Tut! Tut!” and jerking his tail up and down.
Suddenly Evelina stood up and jumped and the nest went rolling over and over down the side of the tall basswood tree, spilling little Montgomery, heels over head.
“Do be careful! Do be careful!” screamed Mrs. Robin. “You will all be killed! You will all be killed!”
But Montgomery was already flopping his wings at a great rate, and had started to fly when the heavy nest fell right on top of him, and there was little Montgomery under the nest, and the nest was wrong side up on the ground.
“Help! Help!” screamed little Montgomery. “Help! Help! I am under the nest!”
Robert Robin tugged at the nest, but the nest was too heavy for him to lift. Mrs. Robin came, and both of them tugged and pulled at the nest, but it was so heavythat both of them together could not lift it.
“Let us tear the nest apart!” said Mrs. Robin, but the dry mud was so hard that the twigs could not be pulled apart.
Just then Elizabeth went fluttering past, and little Sheldon fell off his limb, and Evelina began crying—she was so frightened,—so both parent birds were forced to leave poor little Montgomery under the heavy nest and look after their other children.
And what a time they had with them! For over an hour the three little robins went flying in all directions through the woods. Mister Tom Squirrel sat on a limb and laughed and chuckled, and said to Robert Robin: “The way your baby robins fly makes me remember the time I showed my cousins—the flying squirrels—the way to fly straight down!”
But Mister Robin was too excited to feel like visiting with Mister Tom Squirrel. He was afraid that he would lose one of his children. But at last the baby robins were tired enough to feel like resting. Little Sheldon was in the top of a cedar tree, Elizabethwas sitting in a green osier, and little Evelina was sitting on Mister Chipmunk’s stump, but poor little Montgomery was still under the heavy nest, and neither Robert Robin nor Mrs. Robin could think of any way to get him out.
Over in the pasture a cow was wearing a cowbell. Every time the cow moved her head the bell said “Tonk! Tonkle! Tonk! Tonkle!” Robert Robin could hear the cowbell making the noise to let the farmer know where his brindle cow was. But Robert Robin kept hearing another sound. “Tonkle! Tonkle!” Then he heard some one talking, and he saw two little girls coming into the woods. They were out strawberrying, and they were carrying tin pails on their arms, and whenever they dropped a strawberry in their tin pails it made a noise like “Tonkle! Tonkle!”
“Let us go through this corner of the woods, and maybe we will find some white strawberries!” said one little girl.
“Or some wintergreen berries!” said the other.
“Be careful and not tear your dress on the twigs!” said the first.
“This is an old dress, so I don’t care!” said the other.
“There is a bird’s nest!” said the first little girl.
“Turn it over and see what is inside of it!” said the other.
So the little girl poked Robert Robin’s nest with the toe of her shoe and turned it over, and out jumped Montgomery Robin, and the first thing that he did was to open his mouth just as wide as he could. Both the little girls laughed.
“It is a young robin!” said Lucy, “let’s feed it some of our strawberries!”
“You may feed it some of yours, if you want to, but I am going to take mine home to mother!” said Lettie, who was a fussy little girl, and her mother did not eat strawberries. They gave her neuritis and pimples.
“That poor little robin may have been under that nest, days, and days, and he is almost starved!” said Lucy. “So I am goingto feed the poor thing some of my strawberries!”
So Lucy fed Montgomery three ripe strawberries. “Now that is all you may have now!” said Lucy to Montgomery. “People who have been having a famine should not overload their stomachs!”
“Don’t touch the dirty thing or you will get bugs on you!” said Lettie.
“Oh! Bugs yourself!” said Lucy. “I hope you step on a snake! It would serve you right for being so nicey nicey!”
“You are a very rude little girl, to say such things!” said Lettie.
“I am very sorry if I hurt your feelings, Lettie!” said Lucy. “It was very rude of me to wish that you would step on a snake! I will take it all back, but I would laugh if you got a spider down your neck!”
Then Lucy and Lettie went out of the woods and left little Montgomery sitting on the ground, but in a very few minutes he started flying from stump to stump, and soon he was sitting in the cedar tree close by little Sheldon.
Towards night Robert Robin and Mrs. Robin coaxed the baby robins back into the big basswood tree, and all that night the four of them sat on the same limb and slept just as fine as could be.
At dawn, Robert Robin sang his “Hurry up!” song, then he came back to see how his family was getting along. The four baby robins looked very good in their new silky feathers, and they seemed almost as large as Mrs. Robin, and if their breasts had been red instead of speckled you could hardly have told them from full-grown robins. But they were still quite babies, and had to be fed, and it was several days before their parents taught them to find food for themselves.
“You are a great big man-bird, now. Almost as tall as your father, and you ought to be ashamed to even think of letting your mother feed you!” said Mrs. Robin to Montgomery, who still had the habit of opening his mouth as wide as he could.
About the middle of the week, they were all flying around and getting their own food,so Robert Robin said to Mrs. Robin: “I have had a little matter on my mind for quite a while!”
“What is it?” asked Mrs. Robin.
“I have been thinking about taking a vacation!” said Robert Robin. “I have been working pretty hard, this summer, and the strain is beginning to tell! Only last night, I dreamed that seven spotted cats were chasing me through a briar patch! When I awoke I was all covered with a cold sweat! What I need is a little rest and relaxation!”
“What is relaxation?” asked Mrs. Robin.
“Something like rest, only more refined!” said Robert Robin.
“I think that I need a little vacation!” said Mrs. Robin, “so I will go along with you!”
“That will be fine!” said Robert Robin, “and we will take the children! But where shall we go?”
“Where have you been planning on going, dear?” asked Mrs. Robin.
“I would like to go to some quiet, restfulplace, where there was plenty to eat and drink, and nothing to do.”
“That would be a wonderful place to live!” said Mrs. Robin. “I should like to stay there always!”
“I was thinking that I would like to loaf around Brigg’s Brambles for a few days, then go over to Black-bug Swamp for a few days, then drop over to the river for a day or two, or possibly spend a short time at the lake!”
“Brigg’s Brambles is not a very safe place to take the children—there are so many owls and hawks around, and there is such an odor to Black-bug Swamp, and the last time we were over to the river, we saw all those boys shooting with their air guns. I was thinking that if we went to the mountains or to the seashore we would meet a great many more of our friends,—but have your own way, dear—I will be perfectly happy anywhere!”
“Perhaps we had better go to the mountains!” said Robert Robin. “It would be safer for the children!”
“That would be fine if the weather stays warm, but I shall never forget that awful chill I had, year before last!”
“That settles it!” said Robert Robin. “We will go to the seashore, where the weather is almost always good!”
“You have the best judgment about everything, dear!” said Mrs. Robin. “You always know just how to decide it! It is perfectly wonderful how quickly you make up your mind!”
“My father was the same way!” said Robert Robin. “I think it runs in our family!” Then Robert Robin felt so fine that he flew up to the top of a hickory tree and sang his “Pick Pickles” song.
“Pick pickles!Pick pickles!A teasel tick tickles!A peasel pick pickles!A teasel pick pickles!”
And old Mister Woodpecker stopped drumming on his tree, and looked at Robert Robin and laughed and said:
“Every time I hear you sing that foolish song, I have to laugh in spite of myself!”
Then Old Mister Woodpecker started to drill another hole, but he was still so full of giggles that he could not get his mouth closed, and every time just as he went to tap the tree with his bill he would give a giggle.
“A teasel pick pickles! Ha! Ha! Ha!” laughed Old Mister Woodpecker. “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and it was four minutes before he could get the corner of his lips down so that he could get his mouth closed.
So Old Mister Woodpecker could not laugh and work at the same time, and that may be the reason why only a very few people have ever heard Mister Woodpecker laugh out loud, and not so very many people have even seen him smile.
CHAPTER VIIMISTER ROBERT ROBIN AND HIS FAMILY TAKE A VACATION
In the country where Robert Robin lived there were a great many lakes and streams. The streams ran down through the valleys, and emptied into the lakes, and the waters from the lakes emptied into larger streams which flowed into a great lake which looked as large as the sea.
Mister Robert Robin thought that the big lake was the sea, and all the other robins in his part of the country thought the same thing, so it was to the shore of the great lake that Robert Robin and his family went for their vacation.
The children were delighted with the trip across the country. It was great fun to fly from one woods to another, and then look around to see what new things could be found. No one was in a hurry to get anywhere.
“We have all the time there is!” said Mrs. Robin.
“Let us not be in a hurry!” said Robert Robin. “When one is taking a vacation he should never be in a hurry to get where he is going!”
“Much haste, less speed!” said Mrs. Robin. “Children, get your father to sing you his Wait-a-bit song!”
Then all the youngster robins began to coax Robert Robin to sing his Wait-a-bit song.
“Daddy! Please sing us your Wait-a-bit song! Daddy! Please sing us your Wait-a-bit song!”
So at last Robert Robin perched himself in the top of a tall butternut tree and sang them his Wait-a-bit song:
“Never hurry,Wait a bit!Never worry,Wait a bit!Do your work!Never shirk!Never hurry!Never worry!Wait a bit!”
Before Robert Robin had finished singing his Wait-a-bit song Mister Catbird came rushing over from the edge of a tangled swamp, and perched himself near Robert Robin, in the top of the tall butternut tree. When Robert Robin was through with his song, Mister Catbird said: “Mister Robin, you are a stranger to me but as I have never heard any other robin sing that same song, I would be pleased if you would do me the favor of singing it over once more!”
So Robert Robin sang his Wait-a-bit song over again for Mister Catbird, and Mister Catbird said: “Now sing it again, and I will sing along with you! I would like very much to learn that song! It is one of the best songs that I ever heard.”
So Robert Robin sang the song again, and Mister Catbird sang along with him, but although Mister Catbird had a very fine voice, and could sing very good indeed, heput in so many wrong words that Robert Robin got all mixed up and sang a part of his Cherry song.
That made Mister Catbird laugh, and then he made a noise like a cat, and the little robins were very much surprised to see a nice-looking bird like Mister Catbird who could make a noise almost exactly like a cat.
Mister Catbird was a jolly person, and he was full of jokes. He sat there in the top of the tall butternut tree, and pretended that he was Mister Blackbird, and he sang Mister Blackbird’s song all the way through. Then he said “Meow!” and then he sang a song very much like Robert Robin’s “Rain” song, then he said “Meow!” again, and laughed. It made Robert Robin very angry to have Mister Catbird spoiling a good song like that by saying “Meow!” and he thought that Mister Catbird was making fun of him, so he said to Mister Catbird:
“I am very pleased to have had the pleasure of meeting you, sir, but we are on ourway to the seashore, so we must hurry along! Good afternoon!”
“Good afternoon!” shouted Mister Catbird. “Good afternoon, EVERYBODY! MEOW!”
As Robert Robin, and his family flew away they heard Mister Catbird singing with all his might:
“Never hurry!Wait a bit!Never worry!MEOW! MEOW!Ha! Ha! Ha!Do your work!MEOW! MEOW!”
And the young robins couldn’t help but laugh, but Mister Robert Robin pretended that he did not hear Mister Catbird at all, and started talking with Mrs. Robin about something else.
Before night they came to the shore of the great lake, and at first the little robins were badly frightened. They saw the hundreds of gulls in the air and thought that they were all hawks.
“Those are not hawks, children!” said Mrs. Robin. “Those are sea gulls, but there are many hawks here, too, but if you keep under the cover of the bushes, the hawks will not see you, and if a hawk cannot see you, he cannot catch you!”
For a long time they sat in an apple tree and looked at the great lake, and watched the gulls swooping and soaring through the air. Many boats were plowing through the water, and many people were strolling along the beach or swimming in the surf.
“I want a drink!” said little Sheldon.
“I want a drink!” said little Elizabeth.
“I want a drink!” said little Evelina.
“I want a drink!” said little Montgomery.
“The water in the lake is not fit to drink, children!” said Robert Robin. “It tastes bric-a-brac-ish! We will go over to General Scamp’s fountain, and get a drink of marble water!”
They sat in an apple tree and watched the gulls swooping and soaring through the air. (Page 76) (Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)They sat in an apple tree and watched the gulls swooping and soaring through the air.(Page 76)(Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)
They sat in an apple tree and watched the gulls swooping and soaring through the air.(Page 76)(Exciting Adventures of Mr. Robert Robin)
So Robert Robin and his family went over to General Scamp’s lawn and had a fine drink from his nice bird fountain, and Robert Robin plunged into the bird basin and took a bath, and spattered water all over little Evelina.
But in a few moments all of them were bathing in General Scamp’s bird basin.
“There is nothing like a cold plunge, when one is traveling!” said Robert Robin. “Now I will teach you children to catch earthworms!”
“Oh! Goody!” shouted all the young birdsters. “In which tree are they?”
“They are not in any tree! They are in General Scamp’s lawn!” said Robert Robin, as he hopped down and began tripping over the green grass. Suddenly he stood perfectly still and turned his head to one side. Robert Robin was listening and looking closely at the ground.
“Watch your father, children!” said Mrs. Robin. “You must learn to stop, look, and listen before you become a good worm hunter!”
Robert Robin was standing as still as a stick. Then, like a flash, he drove his sharpbeak into the green sod and pulled out a long wiggly worm.
In an instant the young robins had seized the worm and were pulling this way and that.
“Look out! Look out!” screamed Robert Robin. “A cat is coming! A cat is coming!”
The young robins dropped the big worm, and all of them flew up into a tulip tree.
The big cat tiptoed across the lawn, until she came to an iron fountain. No water was coming from the fountain, and its basin was dry. It was an old fountain and was not much used.
“Ho! Ho!” said the cat. “Here is a good place to hide! I will get into this old fountain and wait until a robin gets near enough for me to catch. Then I will pounce upon it!”
So the big cat hid in the old iron fountain.
A man was trimming the hedge. He was a caretaker, and he saw the big cat hide in the old iron fountain.
“That old cat thinks that she will hide inthe old iron fountain and catch a bird!” he said to himself. “She is the same cat that has been catching birds around here all summer! What she needs is a good dousing!”
The man laid down his clippers, and tiptoed along behind the hedge until he came to a place where a little iron wheel stuck up out of the ground. The man took hold of the little iron wheel and turned it just as quickly as he could, and the water came rushing out of the old iron fountain, and the big cat jumped first one way and then another, and whichever way she sprang she spattered right into streams of cold water that squirted all over her.
“Pstt! Pstt!” she said as she jumped out of the basin, and ran across the nice green lawn, and hurried home.
When the big cat got home she shook herself and said: “That old iron fountain is no good! It is a poor place to hide! I am as wet as a mop! Who would ever have expected that old fountain to blow up like that? General Scamp is letting his place run down so fast that I do not think I willgo over there any more! I will dry my fur, then I will go over to the dump and catch a rat!”
When Robert Robin saw the big cat get wet in the old iron fountain, he told the little robins never to go near that place. “That big cat got very wet, and a little bird, like you, might drown!” he said.
Then, as it was getting towards night, Robert Robin led his family over to the city park. He expected to get a room in the Bird House, but the rooms were all taken, so Robert Robin and his family were forced to sleep all night in a maple tree.
During the night a dense bank of fog rolled in from the lake, and the black smoke of a factory chimney drifted through the park. The lights of the city and the noise of the traffic kept Robert Robin’s family awake most of the night.
“I do not enjoy sleeping in a strange tree!” said Mrs. Robin, the next morning.
“The fog and smoke were very bad!” said Robert Robin, “and those bright lights made my eyes smart!”
Little Evelina had caught cold, Montgomery had hurt his toe, and the other youngster birds were tired and not a bit pleasant, so when Mrs. Robin said, “I would like to go back to our own basswood tree, and build us a nice new nest, in the place where the old one was, then I could lay four more eggs, and we would have plenty of time to raise another family this summer!” When Mrs. Robin said that, all the young robins cried at once: “I want to go home! I want to go home!” and all that Robert Robin said was, “I would like to go to some place where I can get a good night’s sleep!”
The whistles of the city were blowing, and the big clock in the Court House was just striking seven, when Robert Robin and his family flew along the shore of the great lake for a short distance, and then suddenly swerved up into the high air over the woods and fields, and at half-past four that afternoon, they could see Brigg’s Brambles, and their own woods, with their tall basswood tree standing in the corner of it.
Mister Jim Crow was sitting on a fencestake listening to Mister Bob-o-link who was singing his Spingle, Spangle song, when he saw six robins dart into Robert Robin’s basswood tree.
“Some strange robins are in Robert Robin’s tree!” he said to himself. “I had better go over and see where they came from, what they are going to do, and who they are!”
So Jim Crow flew over towards the big basswood tree and sang out: “What, ho! Strangers! Whence came ye! Whither bound, and who’s’t?”
A tired-looking robin hopped to the end of a twig and answered: “Well! Well! If there isn’t my old friend, Jim Crow! It does seem so good to get back home again and see the neighbors!”
“Why! It is Robert Robin!” exclaimed Jim Crow. “I thought that you were away on your vacation!”
“We have been, and we have returned!” said Robert Robin.
“You made a short stay of it!” said Jim Crow. “You left us yesterday morning!”
“Can that be possible?” said Robert Robin. “It seems to me that we were away a week! But the very best part of a vacation is the getting back!” said Robert Robin, and Jim Crow said:
“It was very quiet around the woods while you were away. There was no one to sing us a Hurry-up song in the morning, and no one to sing us a Cheer-up song in the afternoon, and no one to sing us a Good-night song when the red sun was sinking behind the purple hill. Mrs. Crow has had the blues all day, Billy Rabbit has been very lonely, and even Melancthon Coon was asking what had become of you; he had missed your singing. I came over here just on purpose to listen to little Mister Bob-o-link sing his Spingle, Spangle song. So you see, Mister Robin, we all need you to cheer us up with your songs and keep us good-natured!”
“Thank you very much, Mister Crow!” said Robert Robin, “I will surely remember to sing you my Good-night song, when the sun goes down behind the hill!”
And that evening, when the red sun was sinking behind the purple hill, and the sky of the west was hung with the tapestry of clouds, and the shadows in the valley were soft as black velvet, and the breath of the wind was like a whisper among the leaves, Robert Robin sang his Good-night song:
“Mellow light!Mellow light!Yellow light!Yellow light!Has gone!Has gone!Let us rest,—Let us rest!’Til dawn,—’til dawn!”
Then Mister Robert Robin fluttered down into his own big basswood tree, and he and all of his family slept soundly all night, and not even Mister Screech-owl and his whistle disturbed them.