Baby Pitchers Trials | Page 7

eyes, but it was of no use. He did not open his bill or take any notice of the nice breakfast spread before him.
"Too bad!" said Flora. "Will he die?"
"I am afraid he will."
Bertie gazed sadly at the writhing worms.
"He will starve in a land of plenty, and I don't see how anybody is to help it. Who could resist such a tempting breakfast as that?"
"I couldn't," said Flora.
"And I couldn't. And if he does not hurry up, there won't be any breakfast to eat. Look at that--and that."
Bertie pointed to a well-fattened, tender morsel, in such haste to be off that it was hanging over the very edge of the flooring, and to another whose thick-set body was fast disappearing between the boards.
"That is what I call a tight squeeze. They might stop to say good morning."
"Worms don't know everything," returned Flora.
"Not quite everything," said Bertie.
"What shall we do next?"
"Perhaps he is thirsty. Dinah is."
"And you are?"
"Yes, I are."
Water was brought; but the birdy would not drink, although he opened his bill so wide when Flora pushed his head into the porringer that she thought he was drinking.
"He is only gasping," said Bertie. "Birds cannot breathe with their heads under water. Nobody can."
"I can."
"No, dear."
"Minims can."
"Oh, yes, minims can. But minims are fishes, and they live in the water. That is their home. Birds live in the air. They build little houses in the trees."
"Live in the sky. I have seen them way up."
"They do fly almost as high as the sky; but when night comes and they are tired of flying, they go home to rest."
"In the little houses?"
"Yes, dear."
"Want to see them."
"They are high up in the trees, out of sight. By and by, when the leaves fall off and the birds fly away, I will get you one of the round nests."
"To put the robin in."
"If we have any robin."
"Got one now."
"But his wing is broken, and he will not eat."
"Too bad!"
"And if he will not eat, he may as well die. I do believe he is thinking about it now. Look at him!"
Flora had made a bed by robbing Dinah of her dress and shawl; but the bird had not moved since she placed him upon it. He was now lying on his side, with closed eyes, and he was breathing very hard.
"He is asleep," said Flora.
Bertie shook his head.
"Feel better when he wakes up."
"If he does wake up."
"Course he will! You do, don't you?"
"Yes."
"And I do. And Dinah does. Cover him up warm; course he will wake up!"
Flora covered him with her pocket handkerchief, which she called a blanket, and tried to wait patiently for him to finish his nap. But she could not help lifting a corner of the blanket, now and then, to see how he was getting on; and every time she looked he seemed to be breathing harder, until at last he lay quite still, and did not breathe at all. She took that as a good sign, because the eye that she could see was partially open; and she called to Bertie, who had gone to the barn for a box to keep the robin in till the new cage was made, to come quick and turn the birdy over, for he had waked up on one side. She did not like to disturb him; but she wanted to know if the other eye was open. Bertie came up, with the box in his hand. He watched the bird closely for a moment.
"No need to turn him over," he said, sadly. "He is asleep clear through."
"Waked up on one side," persisted Flora; but Bertie knew that the robin would never wake again. He dropped the box, and took up the poor little bird. It was quite dead.
When Flora saw the drooping head, and knew that the birdy would never hop about and chirp or eat worms any more, she cried bitterly. It was too bad for it to go and die just as she was getting acquainted. They would have had such nice times together when the new cage was done.
"Never mind," said Bertie; but he too felt very sorry. He had been looking forward to a tame bird in a pretty cage, singing the sweetest of songs. And now that could never be.
"Get well, some time," sobbed Flora.
"Never," said Bertie, at which Flora cried louder than ever.
"We must bury him, and forget all about it."
"Have a funeral?"
"Yes."
"In a pretty box?"
"Yes."
Flora wiped her eyes. The prospect of a funeral was consoling. It helped her to forget her loss.
"Tie a ribbon round your hat?"
"If you wish."
"Mine too?"
"Yes."
"And wait till Charley and Amy come?"
"Yes, dear."
"Goody!"
She caught up Dinah, and went skipping about the porch.
"Going to have a funeral. Did you know it? Why don't you ask who is dead? Course somebody