ats were chasing
me through a briar patch! When I awoke I was all covered with a cold
sweat! What I need is a little rest and relaxation!"

"What is relaxation?" asked Mrs. Robin.

"Something like rest, only more refined!" said Robert Robin.

"I think that I need a little vacation!" said Mrs. Robin, "so I will go
along with you!"

"That will be fine!" said Robert Robin, "and we will take the children!
But where shall we go?"

"Where have you been planning on going, dear?" asked Mrs. Robin.

"I would like to go to some quiet, restful place, where there was
plenty to eat and drink, and nothing to do."

"That would be a wonderful place to live!" said Mrs. Robin. "I should
like to stay there always!"

"I was thinking that I would like to loaf around Brigg's Brambles for a
few days, then go over to Black-bug Swamp for a few days, then drop over
to the river for a day or two, or possibly spend a short time at the
lake!"

"Brigg's Brambles is not a very safe place to take the children--there
are so many owls and hawks around, and there is such an odor to
Black-bug Swamp, and the last time we were over to the river, we saw all
those boys shooting with their air guns. I was thinking that if we went
to the mountains or to the seashore we would meet a great many more of
our friends,--but have your own way, dear--I will be perfectly happy
anywhere!"

"Perhaps we had better go to the mountains!" said Robert Robin. "It
would be safer for the children!"

"That would be fine if the weather stays warm, but I shall never forget
that awful chill I had, year before last!"

"That settles it!" said Robert Robin. "We will go to the seashore, where
the weather is almost always good!"

"You have the best judgment about everything, dear!" said Mrs. Robin.
"You always know just how to decide it! It is perfectly wonderful how
quickly you make up your mind!"

"My father was the same way!" said Robert Robin. "I think it runs in our
family!" Then Robert Robin felt so fine that he flew up to the top of a
hickory tree and sang his "Pick Pickles" song.

"Pick pickles!
Pick pickles!
A teasel tick tickles!
A peasel pick pickles!
A teasel pick pickles!"

And old Mister Woodpecker stopped drumming on his tree, and looked at
Robert Robin and laughed and said:

"Every time I hear you sing that foolish song, I have to laugh in spite
of myself!"

Then Old Mister Woodpecker started to drill another hole, but he was