"Yes, but I did not know it was the robin. I thought it was some other bird up in a tree. By-and-by it came again. Peep! peep! right under the window, and then I began to look about me. But I did not see anything for a long time. At last I opened the window, and there, hopping about the wet piazza, was Mr. Robin. I went out and got him in a twinkling."

"Did he want to be caught?"

"Couldn't help himself."

"I should have flied away."

"With that?" Bertie pointed to a broken wing.

"With two of them."

"You could not fly if you had a dozen wings like that. It is broken."

"Oh!"

"And that accounts for his being on our piazza. I don't know what lamed him, but I think it was the gale or a stone."

"I guess it was something," said Flora, eagerly.