A few days after these events Mrs. Lewis came into her greenhouse, and seeing it look so much brighter and lighter than usual, she said to the gardener,—
“You must acknowledge that the house looks better for being clean. Try to keep it so.”
“I’ll try, ma’am; but it is not much use when these mischievous birds come in, bringing their stuff to build with. Just look there. I threw away a nest from that very spot three days ago, and there is another. And there is a robin in it.”
“It is Robinette,” cried Polly. “I am sure it is.—Bobbie, come for crumbs.”
Robinette, sly bird, had been watching and listening; and when he saw that attention was drawn to the nest, he sat down in it as though he were the lady on her eggs, knowing well “the mistress” would give orders that he was not to be disturbed. And when she saw it was her own pet robin, of course she was more decided, and told the gardener he was on no account to take down the nest, and every possible arrangement was to be made for the comfort and happiness of Robinette and his wife.
It is customary to close all stories when the hero marries. So, having come to the end of Robinette’s bachelor days, we shall take leave of him and his bride, hoping that, now they are married, they will “live happy ever after.”
APPLE-PIE ORDER.
What a bright, sunshiny forenoon! and how green the meadow looked before Simon Copland’s farm! The thrush in the great thorn was singing loudly, and the old clock, which stood in its dark oak case in the corner of the kitchen, struck twelve as little Phœbe came into the porch.