The Story of a Robin

by Agnes S. Underwood

First they went to the poultry-yard, where there was a brood of very fine little ducklings, just hatched, to see. Then to the dairy, where they both were allowed to pat away at the butter and make it up for tea. Then Matty, the dairy-maid, said that she must leave the dairy, and that they must go too; so they sauntered away down by the stream to the pretty summer-house. They were glad to get there, because of the shade, for the sun was hot, and they were tired with butter-making. So for some little time they sat resting, and making boats of the large leaves, to float down the stream.

By-and-by they heard a step coming quickly down the path towards them, and directly afterwards Bob came hurrying into the summer-house, saying, “Phœbe, come along; Uncle Roger’s seeking you.—And you, Mary-Anne, if you like, you little duck;” and with that Bob gave a loud “hurrah,” which made both the girls spring to their feet in astonishment.

“But why, Bob?” asked Phœbe excitedly, as he hurried them along, one in each hand, as fast as they could go up the path.

“Never you mind,” said Bob—“you’ll soon know;” and then he gave another “hurrah” and jumped like a madman.

On they rushed, through the orchard, round the yew hedge, and so past the old dial, and over the grass, on to the house. At the window, which was a very large one, Phœbe saw quite a crowd; for they were all collected there, and amongst them, to her astonishment, stood tall Jem Heywood. When she and Bob and Mary-Anne came in sight, he set up a cheer, in which little Charlie joined lustily; and Phœbe turned first red and then pale, and at last stopped altogether in fright and bewilderment, dragging the two others back with her. Then her father’s face looked out and smiled to her, and then her mother’s and Aunt Leyton’s; and then out came Uncle Roger, and Phœbe was lifted on his shoulder, and carried through the midst of the smiling faces to where the dinner was laid out.

There she saw a little bower of green branches over a chair at Uncle Roger’s right hand, at the end of the table; and on this chair, under the boughs, Uncle Roger set her down, while before her rose the most enormous apple-pie you can imagine! Instead of crust, which it looked like, its cover was of china-ware; and Uncle Roger raised it in his hand when every one had sat down all round the table, and there—what do you think? Phœbe saw the wonderful pie filled, not with apples, but with beautiful birthday gifts—Bob’s doll, dressed all in pink ribbons and lace; a little straw-hat, trimmed with bright blue ribbons, from Aunt Leyton; a pretty china cottage, covered with roses, from Mary-Anne; a beautiful little work-box, lined with red silk, and filled with every pretty, useful thing for sewing, and also a crown-piece in it, from her father and mother; and better than all these, a small Bible, beautifully bound in purple velvet, with gold clasps, from Uncle Roger; and beside this lay another book, and with a cry of surprise Phœbe saw before her, torn and stained, her own lost lesson-book! What a cheer rose up all round the table! And sailor Jem cheered louder than any one. But all this joy was too much for poor Phœbe, and she fell a-crying on Uncle Roger’s shoulder.

If any of you wish to know how the lost book was found again, I must tell you what Jem Heywood said about it, though it won’t be in his own words.

He had been down the evening before at Mrs. Prettyman’s (Margaret’s mother), and one of the little ones having come toddling into the room, Jem had lifted it on his knee, taking as he did so a crushed, torn book out of its hand. On the fly-leaf, though almost torn away, Jem read, to his surprise, the first letters of Phœbe’s name. The child said it had got the book “in Maggie’s bag.” Then Margaret came in herself, and Jem asked her what was the meaning of this. Her angry, guilty face and confused replies immediately roused his suspicions; and on going home he took care to let his sister Esther know all he had seen and heard. The truth was soon found out. It was Margaret who had done this spiteful thing, to bring disgrace upon Phœbe.

Can you all picture to yourselves Phœbe’s joy on this happy evening? How grateful she was to Jem Heywood, and how the hours flew away, supper-time coming before the games seemed half done! Phœbe found time, though, for a long, happy talk with Uncle Roger; and it was then she told him how she had made up her mind not to quarrel with Margaret because of all this, but to try, if possible, to be better friends than before; for she now saw, she said, that their quarrelling had brought all this about.

I may as well add here, as some of you may wish to know, that Phœbe’s resolution had its own reward, for her change of conduct seemed to bring about a change in Margaret’s too. Of course this took some time, for bad feelings cannot be rooted up all at once. But as the months passed on, every one could see a great improvement in Margaret. Little beginnings often bring much greater endings; and Margaret could look back afterwards to this time with feelings of gratitude for the lesson which had been taught her by means of one forgiving little heart.