My Robin | Page 7

Frances Hodgson Burnett

sometimes it was a chirp--sometimes it was a quick clear repetition of
"Sweet! Sweet! Sweetie"--which I fancied he liked best. I made one
after the other--and then--something scarlet flashed across the lawn,
across the rose-walk--over the wall and he was there. He had not
forgotten, it had not been too long, he alighted on the snowy brown
grass at my feet.
Then I knew he was a little Soul and not only a bird and the real parting
which must come in a few weeks' time loomed up before me a strange
tragic thing.
* * *
I do not often allow myself to think of it. It was too final. And there
was nothing to be done. I was going thousands of miles across the sea.
A little warm thing of scarlet and brown feathers and pulsating trilling

throat lives such a brief life. The little soul in its black dew-drop
eye--one knows nothing about it. For myself I sometimes believe
strange things. We two were something weirdly near to each other.
At the end I went down to the bare world of roses one soft damp day
and stood under the tree and called him for the last time. He did not
keep me waiting and he flew to a twig very near my face. I could not
write all I said to him. I tried with all my heart to explain and he
answered me--between his listenings--with the "far away" love note. I
talked to him as if he knew all I knew. He put his head on one side and
listened so intently that I felt that he understood. I told him that I must
go away and that we should not see each other again and I told him
why.
"But you must not think when I do not come back it is because I have
forgotten you," I said. "Never since I was born have I loved anything as
I have loved you--except my two babies. Never shall I love anything so
much again so long as I am in the world. You are a little Soul and I am
a little Soul and we shall love each other forever and ever. We won't
say Good-bye. We have been too near to each other--nearer than human
beings are. I love you and love you and love you--little Soul."
Then I went out of the rose-garden. I shall never go into it again.

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