was such a place as White Spring, but Robert
Robin's father had known of it and he had led Robert Robin to its tiny
basin, and Robert Robin had shown the spring to Mrs. Robin.

The tired robins were glad to drink of its clear cool water which gushed
out of the whitest sand.

"Fill your crops with this nice sharp sand, children!" said Mrs. Robin.
"You will need good sand in your crops to digest those Virginia bugs!"

So all the robins filled their crops with the fine white sand, then
Robert Robin sat down to rest.

"Do you remember the first time that I brought you to this spring?" he
asked Mrs. Robin.

"Oh, yes! Indeed I do!" said Mrs. Robin. "That was when we were on our
honeymoon!"

"There were many other robins around here then!" said Robert Robin. "Do
you remember that Miss Lena Robin you were so jealous of?" laughed
Robert Robin.

"I might have been jealous of her, but at least I was very polite to her
and was not rude like you were to that handsome young Mister Percival
Robin, whom you were so insanely jealous of! I remember your trying to
knock him into the spring, and raving around like mad! Why! You chased
him clear over that hill and you were simply too funny for anything, and
all because he was very polite to me and he _was_ rather good looking!"
said Mrs. Robin.

"Good looking?" said Robert Robin. "Good looking? Why! his head looked
like a woodpecker's, and his tail looked like a chickadee's, and his
legs were long enough for a killdeer!"

"That Miss Lena Robin, you were so infatuated with,----"

"Infatuated with?" screamed Robert Robin. "I barely remember how she
looked. But she was not so bad looking! She had pretty eyes, and a
charming manner, but what she could see about that long-legged Percival
is a mystery to me!"

"What he could see about her is a deeper mystery!" said Mrs. Robin, "but
let us not quarrel about those people,--they are nothing to me."

"Nor to me!" said Robert Robin. "Call the children and we will be on our
way!"

So Mrs. Robin called the youngster robins from the patch of bushes where
they had been playing I-spy, and all of them whirred away into the
higher air on their way to the warm south, and the sound of their wings
as they followed close behind Robert Robin went "Swish! Swish! Swish!"
like the panting of tiny engines.

THE END

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THE SUNNYBROOK SERIES

By MRS. ELSIE M. ALEXANDER

Clot