One day, while walking home from the Kindergarten, I met some travellers
coming from the South. They did not come on the car or the boat, but
they travelled very quickly. As they passed me I fancied I heard them
say, "How do you do? We are glad to see you again. Are there plenty of
houses to rent this Spring? You will have a great many more visitors by
and by, for our friends are coming North as soon as the weather gets a
little warmer."
"Yes," I replied, "some of the houses you occupied last spring are
waiting for you, and you will find pleasant places on which to build
new ones in Crab Apple Lane, Woodbine Walk, Maple Park, and Apple Tree
Avenue."
"Thank you," they called, and hurried on, leaving me to wonder what
sort of a journey they had. All day long I saw them flying to and fro,
carrying loads of straw and mud.
Just at twilight there came a rap at my window, and there stood Mr.
Robin Redbreast, looking in as saucily as you please. "I thought you'd
be there," he chirped; "and if you will look out a minute, I'll show you
my house."
Sure enough, there was a tiny home on Apple tree Avenue, just at the
corner of Branch Alley. There was a cellar of mud, and the rest of the
cottage was neatly woven of straw. "How do you like it?" he chirped.
Of course I admired it, and asked him if he was all ready to go to
housekeeping. "All but the beds," he replied, "but if you will give me
some hair and a few feathers, I will soon have a soft place for our eggs
to rest on."
I threw some out, and in a short time the nest was lined. Then Robin
flew off, returning the next day with his mate, who showed her delight
at the new home by cozily settling down in it.
Every morning the birds gave a concert above my window, and one day I
heard some new notes, and, peeping out, saw that five little robins had
come to brighten the cozy nest. Such a busy time as the papa and mamma
Redbreasts had now! Such a digging for worms to drop into the big mouths
which seemed to be always asking for food! In a few weeks the baby birds
learned to fly, and left the nest to make new homes and sing their own
sweet songs.
The old birds stayed on the Avenue awhile longer, but when the leaves
put on their holiday dresses, and the flowers tied on their nightcaps
and went to sleep, the Redbreasts sang good-by to their friends and,
spreading their wings, flew away over the house tops toward the Sunny
South.