“Yes, say ‘Varsity’; that will protect you.”
“What about the robins and the small wild birds that nest in city gardens?” I asked. “They have mostly frightened eyes, but they can fight. I have heard this from the old birds.”
“The robins won’t be here for a while yet,” said Chummy, “and when they come, I’ll speak to their head bird, Vox Clamanti.”
“Thank you a thousand times,” I exclaimed. “I’m just crazy to travel all about this neighborhood. It’s grand to have a powerful friend. I shall sing a nice little song about you to Mrs. Martin to-night.”
Chummy did not reply. He was looking at the red sun which was just beginning to hide
behind the huge white milk bottle up in the sky, which is an advertisement on the top of an enormous dairy building on the street next to ours.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I’ll have to go look for something to eat before it gets dark. I see the neighbors are putting out their trash cans.”
CHAPTER IX
A BIRD’S AFTERNOON TEA
I’LL give you something,” I said, “if you’ll come into my house with me.”