ROBIN REDBREAST
MERRY ROBIN REDBREAST
"Robin, robin redbreast,
Singing on the bough,
Come and get your breakfast,
We will feed you now.
Robin likes the golden grain,
Nods his head and sings again:
'Chirping, chirping cheerily,
Here I come so merrily,
Thank you, children dear!'"
Thus sang Phyllis one morning during the second week in March.
In the topmost bough of the old apple-tree sat Robin Redbreast, looking altogether doubtful as to whether he liked the little girl's song.
But when he saw the grains of wheat which the child was scattering on the ground for his breakfast, he thought better of his doubt.
He hopped lower on the branches. He turned his little head on one side and looked at Phyllis in a very friendly fashion.
"Come on down!" Phyllis begged. "I am so glad that you have returned. I am so glad that you came to this very apple-tree and sang so strong and loud and clear!"
"Chirp! Chirp!" and the robin hopped again nearer.