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JUST before
sunrise one bright morning, a mamma and papa robin sat on the twig
of a tree talking to one another, while down on the ground was a
little nest, in which two baby robins were still sleeping.
"My dear," Mr. Robin was saying, "don't you think our children are
old enough to learn to fly?"
"Yes, indeed," said mamma robin; "I think it high time that Dotty
and Singer should learn to fly, and I have been thinking that if the
morning is pleasant we might begin to-day."
"Very well," said Mr. Robin, "and as I have a few things to say to
them before I take them out of the nest, we had better go and wake
them."
So they flew toward the nest, singing as they went.
"Well, Dotty and Singer, how would you like to try your wings
today?" said papa robin, when they had reached the nest.
"O, ever so much!" cried both robins in a breath.
"Very well, we shall go out with you every morning for a while;
after that you must go by yourselves. But before I take you into the
world at all, there are a few things which I wish to say to you."
"In the first place, I hope you will always make yourselves as
useful as possible in your own way, without trying to imitate other
birds, for you will meet a great many birds, who, in both
appearances and habits are very much like yourselves, others, who
are very different. But all have a certain work to do, and are noted
for certain qualities. Now you will find some birds called ducks,
who are very good swimmers; others, called chickens who are good
scratchers; some sing very sweetly, others are noted for their
flight."
"Now, in my opinion, a robin should try and learn to hop well, to
fly well, also to sing well. But there is another thing I wish to
say to you, and that is in looking for worms for your meals, I hope
you will always go among the farmers' crops, for both the farmer and
his children have been very kind to us. We have lived very
peaceably, and not one of the nests on the farm have been robbed or
molested in any way. You can make yourselves useful to him in this
way, as worms are very destructive to the crops. But ready, now, for
your lesson."
So saying, he hopped out of the nest upon a twig close by, the
little robins following.
Dotty and Singer were very much pleased with their first lesson, and
continued their practice every day until their wings were quite
strong. They were then allowed to fly about by themselves as they
pleased.
Now Dotty was an obedient little robin; he remembered all that he
had been told, and guided all his actions according to the advice he
had received.
But, sad to say, Singer did not. He would sit upon a twig for hours
and watch the ducks and geese swim on the nice, clear pond, and
thought of the nice time he might have if he could swim; or he would
listen to hear the rooster crow, and wonder why he could not do the
same.
Dotty would often try to get him out of this mood. "Come, Singer,"
he would say, "come and help me wake up the children. You know they
love to hear us sing, and may oversleep themselves if they do not
hear us."
"No, indeed," Singer would reply, "I do not intend to spoil my voice
for those children.; and, besides, I am very anxious to learn how to
swim just now, and I mean to ask that duck down there on the pond to
teach me."
So saying, he flew down to the edge of the pond and called to the
duck.
The duck turned her head, looked at the robin awhile, and asked
presently:
"Well, little robin, what do you want?"
"I have come to see whether you would teach me to swim."
"Teach you to swim? Well, let me see your feet."
"Why, you have no web between your toes."
"Why, of course not; who ever heard of a robin having a web between
his toes? How could we hop with such clumsy feet?"
"Well," said the duck, "webbed feet are necessary for swimming
birds; and beside that, I don't think that yourfeathers are oiled."
"O no, indeed, my feathers are not oiled."
"Well, in that case the water will soak right to your skin, and you
would take many colds. But why do you wish to learn to swim; can't
you do anything else?"
"Yes," said Singer, "I can sing."
"Sing!" said the duck, "strange I never hear you; I am afraid you do
not practice very much. I would advise you to give up the idea of
swimming and try to cultivate your voice."
So saying, the duck swam off, and left Singer standing at the edge
of the pond.
The next day Dotty asked Singer whether the duck had taught him to
swim.
"No," said Singer, "she would not teach me because my feet are not
big and clumsy like her own, and because my feathers are not oiled.
But I don't mean to give up. I am going to ask that beautiful swan;
I feel sure she won't refuse me."
"I do wish that you would give up that foolish idea," said Dotty.
"The duck is right, you will never learn to swim because you were
not made for that purpose; and you will be much happier if you will
stay with the rest of the robins and be content."
Have you heard about the party that is to be given to-morrow?"
"The party?" said Singer, "why no. Tell me about it."
"All the birds about the farm are to meet near the pond to-morrow,
and we expect to have a grand time; for all the different classes of
birds are to display their particular talents, and of course there
will be a winner in each class, and prizes are to be awarded to
each. All the swimming birds are to try a race on the pond, the
roosters will crow, and we robins are going to sing. But, dear me! I
am afraid I have been talking here too long; I really must be off,
for I have an engagement with fifty other robins to search for worms
among the farmers' crops, for our feast to-morrow. Come with me,
Singer, and I will tell you the rest on the way."
"I cannot come just now," said Singer, "but I may come bye and bye."
"O," thought Singer, after Dotty had gone, "I must learn to swim
to-day. To-morrow will be the day for me to show that old duck that
I can learn to swim; and won't the other robins be surprised when
they see me on the pond? But there is the swan on the pond now, I
must go and ask her."
So Singer called to the swan and asked her the same question which
he had asked the duck. Now the swan was a very wise old bird. She
knew that Singer was very foolish and needed a lesson, not in
swimming, however, but one which would cure him of his foolish
desire. So she said, pleasantly:
"O, yes, I will teach you, if you think you can learn. Just hop upon
my back, sit quietly, and watch me for awhile; this will help you
partly to accustom yourself to the water."
Singer did as he was told, and they were soon gliding smoothly
around the pond. He thought this fine sport, but felt frightened
when the swan told him to hop off her back into the water.
"O," said Singer, "I would rather stay where I am."
"But you will never learn to swim up there," so saying, the swan
gave her body a slight shake, and Singer knew that this meant that
he was to go into the water, and so he did; but, alas! alas! for
poor Singer. The water seemed to soak through his body; he tried to
keep up with his wings, but these too became so wet and felt so
heavy that he was obliged to drop them helplessly to his sides; and
his poor little feet without a web seemed of no use at all.
Poor Singer begged the swan piteously to help him out of the water,
which. of course, she intended to do from the beginning, for she was
wise enough to know just what would happen. So she dived under the
water, and poor Sin ger partly hopped and partly climbed upon the
swan's back again, and was taken back to the shore without a word.
And although Singer was not a happy robin he certainly was a wiser
one. And when the party came off the following day, Singer, of
course, was quite sick, and had such a sore throat that he could not
sing at all.
During his illness Singer had a great deal of time to think, and
often said to himself: "After till, I am very glad that I was not
drowned, for then I should not have had a chance to correct my bad
habit; but now I mean to get over it entirely," and so he did. The
lesson he had received was not only a lesson to hire, but was a
benelit to all other birds, who, like Singer, were not content with
their own particular talents.
Singer's Lesson
A Fictional Short Story by
Agnes Taylor Ketchum & Ida M. Jorgensen
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