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A PAIR of robins
had begun to build their nest on a branch of an old apple-tree up
under the nursery window. Day after say five little children might
be seen peeping out of that window watching the movements of the
birds. There were Alice and Mary, bright-eyed little girls of seven
and eight years; then came stout little Jamie and Charlie, and
finally little Puss, whose real name was Ellen, but who was called
Puss and Pussy, Birdie or Todlie, or any other pet name that came to
mind. The birds soon became so familiar with the curly heads at the
window, that they rashly caught up and wove into their nest little
bits of cotton, and bits of thread and yarn that were thrown to
them. Charlie cut one of the floss curls from Todlie's head and
threw it out; they all laughed to see Todlies golden hair figuring
in a bird's nest. Great was the joy of the children when the nest
was finished. They call it "our nest," and the two robins they
called "our birds." But greater still was their joy when one morning
they saw in the nest a beautiful pale green egg. In five day there
were five little eggs, and then Alice, the eldest girl, said:
"That makes one for each of us, and each of us will have a bird
by-and-by;" at which all the children laughed and clapped their
hands, and jumped for glee. Now the mother bird began to sit on the
eggs, and there she sat day after day.
"Yes she is," said grave little Alice. "Old Sam says his hens set
three weeks; just think, almost a month!"
At length one morning as they looked out of the window, the patient
mother bird was gone, and there seemed to be nothing in the nest but
a bundle of something hairy. But when the children cried out to
their mamma to come there, five little mouths opened in the nest and
they knew there were five little birds there. The children wished to
feed the little things, but their mamma told them that the old birds
knew best how to take care of them; and sure enough, while they were
speaking, back came Mr. and Mrs. Robin whirring through the green
branches, and then all the little red mouths flew open, and the
birds put something into each. After this it was great amusement to
watch the daily feeding of the little birds and to observe how, when
not feeding them, the mother sat brooding over the nest warming them
under her soft wing, while the father bird sat on the top-most bough
of the apple-tree and sang to them.
"I'm going to give mine a name," said Mary, when the robins were
almost full-grown. "I'll call him Brown-Eyes."
"And I shall call mine Tip Top, because I know he'll be a tip-top
bird," Jamie said.
"I'll call mine Singer," said Alice.
"I'll call mine Toddy," said little Todlie, who would not be behind
the others.
"Hurrah for Todlie!" cried Charlie; "hers is the best of all. For my
part, I'll call mine Speckle."
The birds grew rapidly, and soon the nest was very much crowded. Now
Tip Top was the biggest and strongest, and he was always scuffling
and crowding the others and clamoring for the most food; and when
Tip Top was too noisy, Speckle, who was a bird of spirit, would peck
at him. Little Brown Eyes was a meek and tender little bird, and
would sit winking and blinking with fear while her big brothers
quarreled. As to Toddy and Singer, they were sister birds, very fond
of chattering, and they used to scold their badly-behaved brothers
in a way that made the nest quite lively. Mr. and Mrs. Robin were
much grieved at the wranglings in their family.
"I say," said Tip Top one day to them, "this old nest is a crowded
hole, and it's quite time some of us were out of it; just give us
lessons in flying, won't you, and let us go."
"My dear boy," said Mother Robin, "we shall teach you to fly as soon
as your wings are strong enough." "You are a very little bird," said
his father, "and ought to be good and obedient, and wait patiently
until your wing feathers grow."
"Wait for my wing feathers? Humbug!" Tip Top would say, as he sat
balancing himself on the very edge of the nest, with his little
short tail and little chumps of wings, looking up into the blue
clouds above, or into the grass and clover-heads below. "Father and
mother want to keep me back," said he; "if the don't hurry up and
teach me to fly, I'll take matters into my own hands and be off some
day before they know it. Look at those swallows, skimming and diving
through the blue air! That's the way I want to do."
His little sister tried to reason with him, but Tip Top only said,
"What do you know about flying?"
"About as much as you do," said Speckle. And so the quarrelling grew
worse and worse every day, while Tip Top would get out on the edge
of the nest and threaten to go away.
"My dear boy," said the mother, "do go into the nest and be a good
boy, and then you will be happy."
"Oh!" said Tip Top, "I'm too big for the nest, and I want to see the
world; it's full of beautiful things, I know. Now there's the most
lovely creature, with bright eyes, that come under the tree every
day, and want me to come down in the grass and play with her."
"My son, take care," said the frightened mother, "that
lovely-seeming creature is our dreadful enemy, the cat, a horrid
monster with teeth and claws."
At this all the little birds shuddered and cuddled deeper into the
nest, except Tip top, who felt he was so big he needn't be afraid of
anything. The next morning, after the mother and father were gone,
Tip Top got on the edge of the nest again, and looking over he saw
lovely Miss Pussy washing her face among the daisies under the
trees. As Tip Top looked down, he thought her yellow eyes were
beautiful, and then she said so sweetly, "Little bird, little bird,
come down, Pussy want to play with you."
"Only look at her! Her eyes are like gold!" exclaimed Tip Top.
"No, don't look," said Singer and speckle; "she will get you to come
down, and then she will eat you up."
"I'd like to see her try to eat me up," said Tip Top; "just as if
she would! She's a nice creature, and wants us to have some fun; we
never do have any fun in this old nest."
Then Pussy called again, "Little birds, come down, Pussy want to
play with you."
A moment after a scream was heard from the nursery window, where the
children were looking out upon the nest.
"Oh, mamma! Do come here! Tip Top has fallen out of the nest, and
the cat has got him!"
Away ran Pussy with foolish Tip Top in her mouth. Jamie ran after
the cat. Mr. and Mrs. Robin, who had just come home, made plaintive
cries when they saw what had happened, and Mrs. Robin's bright eyes
soon discovered her poor little son, where Pussy was patting him and
rolling him from one claw to the other under the currant bushes.
Lighting on the bush above, she called the little folks to the spot
by her cries. Jamie plunged under the bush, and catching the cat,
with one or two blows he obliged her to let Tip top go. The poor
thing was not dead, but some of his feathers were torn out, and one
of his wings was broken; he was put back into the nest. The cat had
shaken all the nonsense out of him, and he was dreadfully humbled
young robin. In a short time the birds learned to fly, but poor Tip
Top sat there, sad enough, with a broken wing. Finally Jamie took
him out of the nest and made him a cage, and took such good care of
him that he seemed tolerably contented, but he was a poor
lame-winged robin all his days.
Story of the Tip Top
A Fictional Short Story by
Agnes Taylor Ketchum & Ida M. Jorgensen
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