And that evening, when the red sun was sinking behind the purple hill, and the sky of the west was hung with the tapestry of clouds, and the shadows in the valley were soft as black velvet, and the breath of the wind was like a whisper among the leaves, Robert Robin sang his Good-night song:
“Mellow light!
Mellow light!
Yellow light!
Yellow light!
Has gone!
Has gone!
Let us rest,—
Let us rest!
’Til dawn,—’til dawn!”
Then Mister Robert Robin fluttered down into his own big basswood tree, and he and all of his family slept soundly all night, and not even Mister Screech-owl and his whistle disturbed them.
CHAPTER VIII
ROBERT ROBIN TELLS THE STORY OF WINTER
It was well towards Fall when Mister and Mrs. Robert Robin’s second family were out of the nest, and flying around. The days were getting shorter and the nights seemed very, very long to Robert Robin, who kept the sharpest watch to see the first faint light of dawn in the east. For Robert Robin felt it his duty to waken everybody just as quickly as he was sure that morning was about to break. But as the sun came up in the east a little later each morning, Robert Robin had longer and longer to wait.
“It seems to me that last night was the longest night that we have had this summer!” he said to Mrs. Robin.
“Perhaps to-night will not be as long!” said Mrs. Robin.