“You seem to like partridge berries!” said Robert Robin.
“Yes, we are very fond of them!” said Mrs. Partridge. “They are my favorite fruit!”
“I seldom eat them!” said Robert Robin. “My favorite fruit is a ripe red cherry!”
“I thought that cherries were purple when they were ripe,” said Mrs. Partridge.
“Some kinds of wild cherries are purple when they are ripe, but the cherries which grow on the trees near the farmer’s house are red when they are ripe, and they are ever so much better than wild cherries!” said Robert Robin.
“I would like some of the farmer’s ripe red cherries, but I would never dare go so near the farmer’s house. He would be almost sure to see me and shoot me with his gun!” said Mrs. Partridge, as she got back on her nest and snuggled her eggs.
Major Partridge heard Bob White calling to him, so he strutted over to see what Bob White wanted, but Robert Robin felt like visiting a little more, so he said to Mrs. Partridge:
“You were speaking about being afraid that the farmer would shoot you; he never shoots at me, but one time he threw a stone at me when I was picking some of the cherries to bring home to my babies. He seemed very angry about something.”
“Perhaps he did not like you to be picking his cherries,” said Mrs. Partridge.
“They were not his cherries!” said Robert Robin. “They were on the tree, and belonged to whoever got them first!”