Exciting Adventures of Mister Robert Robin | Page 8

the woods; the clouds began to break away;

the blue sky shone in patches between the torn clouds, and the rain was
over.
No more rain fell, but all that night the fierce wind raved and roared,
and when the sun came up in the east once more, the fierce gusts were
whipping the branches of the elms, and twisting the tops of the tall
pines, but Robert Robin's big basswood tree stood on the northeast side
of the forest, so that the wind scarcely touched it.
During the night four little baby robins had pecked their way out of the
blue eggs, and when daylight came, Mrs. Robin had cleared the nest of
broken shells and was covering her babies with her warm feathers.
Robert Robin was sitting on the big branch close by. He was oiling and
arranging his feathers with great care.
"You did make it stop raining, didn't you, dear?" said Mrs. Robin.
"I must admit that strange things happen!" said Robert Robin, as he
lifted a feather and oiled it on the under side.
"I have a little surprise for you!" said Mrs. Robin.
Robert Robin looked, and as Mrs. Robin stood up, he saw four little
baby robins. The four little baby robins looked at him and opened their
mouths just as wide as they could.
"Why didn't you tell me they were here?" he said. "The poor little dears
are almost starved!" and away he flew in a great rush to get them some
breakfast. In a few moments he was back again and fed one of them.
Then away he hurried again and in a moment he came carrying more
food for the babies, but the babies looked so nearly alike that Robert
Robin fed the same one twice, and that made Mrs. Robin laugh.
"Men are such blunderbusses!" she said.
"Why don't you have your children marked so one can tell them apart?"
he said.

"I will place little Elizabeth at the north side of the nest, little Sheldon
at the east, Montgomery at the south, and Evelina at the west!"
All day long Robert Robin did nothing except carry food for the baby
robins, but the next day Mrs. Robin helped him, and both of them were
busy, for the four little baby robins were very hungry. They never did
seem to get enough to eat.
"The children have wonderful appetites!" said Mrs. Robin.
"They are simply ravenous!" said Robert Robin.
"What does 'ravenous' mean?" asked Mrs. Robin.
"Ravenous means as hungry as a wolf!" answered Robert Robin. "I
wish that the cherries would hurry and get ripe!"
"Do wolves eat cherries?" asked Mrs. Robin.
"I do not know!" said Robert Robin, "but I do know that ripe red
cherries are good for baby robins, and ever so much easier to find than
bugs and worms!"
"Green cherries make them sick! We must be very careful not to feed
our babies any green cherries!"
"I know where there is an early cherry tree!" said Robert Robin, "and I
am going right over there now and see if any of the early cherries are
ripe!"
So Mrs. Robin waited by their nest while Robert Robin went over to
see about the early cherries.
The early cherry tree grew in Widow Blunt's back yard. Widow Blunt's
father had planted it, and it was the very earliest cherry tree in all the
neighborhood.
When Robert Robin came in sight of it he saw the bright red fruit
shining among the green leaves. The early cherries were ripe, and

Robert Robin was the first to find them.
In a few moments Robert Robin stood beside his own nest with a bright
red cherry in his mouth.
"Be sure to pop the pits, children!" said Mrs. Robin, and after the little
robin had swallowed the cherry, the cherry pit came popping from his
mouth and rattled down to the ground.
Many times that day Robert Robin and Mrs. Robert Robin went back
and forth between their nest and Widow Blunt's early cherry tree, but in
the afternoon, Widow Blunt was out in her garden when she saw a
red-breasted robin picking her cherries.
"Oh! You cute robin red-breast!" she called. "You are after my cherries,
but you will have to wait until I have picked all that I want for my own
use, before you get any more!"
Widow Blunt went into her house, and brought out her stepladder.
Then she went into her parlor and got a big stuffed owl off the mantel.
The owl was one that Mister Blunt had shot, and a friend of his had
stuffed its skin and put in great glass eyes that would scare almost
anything. The owl looked just as if he were going to spring right at you.
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