“It is remarkable indeed,” said the Robin: “now I wonder what my old friend the Rook up there would have to say about it.”
The Rook was at that very moment sailing in slow circles round the top of a neighbouring elm-tree. For centuries he and his ancestors had built their nests in the particular avenue of elms of which this tree was one of the tallest. It so happened that the Rook was just starting off for his morning constitutional, and as he finished his round, and then swept slowly across the meadow below, very deliberately flapping his great dusky wings, he came in sight of the lime-tree on which the Robin was perched.
Out flew the Robin, and then back again to attract the Rook’s attention. When the Rook saw this, he slowly gathered in his wings and swung himself on to a branch close to his little friend.
He certainly was a very sedate, and even solemn-looking gentleman, at least so thought the Blackbird. His plumage was anything but bright and glossy, in fact it looked very shabby indeed, as if he had worn it for some seasons without a change, and had been out in much rough weather. His dark eyes were relieved by no merry twinkle; then there were small bare patches (which were not over beautiful) on his 14 neck; and his voice was exceedingly hoarse and unmusical. But notwithstanding all this, there was a certain quiet dignity, and an air of ripe wisdom about the old bird which much impressed our hero, and made him listen with respect to whatever words of wisdom fell from the blue beak, although they were uttered in rather a croaky tone.
After the usual “good mornings” had passed, and the Blackbird had been presented in due form to the Rook, the Robin said, “How comes it, Mr. Rook, that there are so many new berries on the bushes?”
“You ask how it is, my little friend,” said the Rook, kindly; “well, I will tell you. Just now, when no insects can be had, what should we all do if we had no berries? Now that the leaves have all fallen, we can find the berries much more easily. Many of them were there already, only you didn’t see them. They are provided for us by our Heavenly Father. As each season comes round, God gives us the fruits of that season, and when one kind of food fails, He provides us with another. I am an old bird,” continued the Rook, “but I’ve never known the seasons to fail. We do not ‘sow, nor do we 15 gather into barns,’ but still ‘God feeds us.’ I always look forward, and hopefully too, to every season as it comes––Spring,––Summer,––Autumn,––Winter,––and, my young friends, you will be wise to do the same, for, do you know, this trustful feeling is called ‘faith.’”
The Rook then shut his learned beak, and opened and spread his wide black wings, and slowly sailed away, leaving the Blackbird and the Robin to meditate on all that he had been telling them. At last the Robin broke silence with “Have you breakfasted?”
“Yes, I have,” replied the Blackbird, “on a few poor ivy-berries, but I’m still rather hungry.”
“Then come with me,” said the Robin, “and you shall soon have a right good feast.” Off the birds flew, and swiftly passed over one or two snow-covered fields, and then by a long avenue of lime-trees. They came at last to a level lawn, at the end of which stood an old gabled mansion, built of gray stone; ivy climbed round the pillars of an arcade at the east end of the house, and ivy covered the west corner. The time-stained gables, surmounted by round stone balls, stood out in the sunshine, and the 16 dark tiles of the roof peeped out here and there from their snowy covering. The two friends flew to the west side of the mansion, which overlooked a smooth grassy terrace and garden. Beyond was a lake, and then came a wood behind which the sun sank, each evening, to rest. Gray gables rose on this side of the house also, and there was a large bay window which the Blackbird soon discovered to be the window of the dining-room. There were some thick laurel-bushes beyond this window, to which the two birds flew, and then they stopped to rest and look about them. The Blackbird gazed admiringly at the old house, and with especial interest at the bay window.