that accounts for his being on our piazza. I don't know what lamed
him, but I think it was the gale or a stone."

"I guess it was something," said Flora, eagerly.

"And it was lucky that I happened to hear him when he cried peep, peep,
instead of puss. If puss had been round, wouldn't she have snapped at
him?"

"Wouldn't she?" echoed Flora.

"She would have made mince meat of Mr. Robin. There would not have been
so much as a feather left. I tell you what I mean to do. Nurse him up
till he gets well."

"Me, too."

"Yes, you can be the doctor, while I am at school; and if he _does_ get
well, won't I make a tip-top cage for him?"

"He will get well."

"Perhaps. But you must be careful about his diet. Don't give him
anything hurtful to eat, you know."

"I won't. Give him milk and sponge cake."

"And worms. You must not forget the worms."

"Dig some?"

"Yes."

"Dig some now?"

"That wouldn't be a bad idea. He was not hungry last night, and he would
not eat this morning. Perhaps a nice fat worm will tempt him."

Flora knew where to look for nice, fat worms, so she left Bertie to take
care of Dinah and the robin, while she went in pursuit of a breakfast
for the birdy. There was a family that lived under a certain plank, and
as it was a large family there was always somebody at home. When she
tried the door it would not open; that is to say when she got to the
plank she could not lift it. The wet clay sucked it down so hard that
although she tugged till she was red in the face, she could not move it.

"Oh, dear!" she cried.

And then she went to the other end of the plank and tried that. But it
stuck fast. It would not move an inch. Then she got angry and talked to
it as she sometimes talked to Dinah, and with no better result. She
could not move it by force or by persuasion. There was no other way but
to go back to Bertie without the robin's breakfast.

"I can manage it," said Bertie, "if you will take the chick. I should
like to see the plank that could hold out against me."

Flora gladly took the chick, and her countenance brightened as she felt
the little heart flutter against her hand. This was much pleasanter than
hunting worms. She sat down upon the step and held the birdy very
tenderly till Bertie came back.

CHAPTER IV.

"GOING TO HAVE A FUNERAL."

The plank did not hold out against Bertie, and he found several of the
worm family at home. They were very much disturbed by his prese