have plenty of time to raise another family
this summer!" When Mrs. Robin said that, all the young robins cried at
once: "I want to go home! I want to go home!" and all that Robert Robin
said was, "I would like to go to some place where I can get a good
night's sleep!"

The whistles of the city were blowing, and the big clock in the Court
House was just striking seven, when Robert Robin and his family flew
along the shore of the great lake for a short distance, and then
suddenly swerved up into the high air over the woods and fields, and at
half-past four that afternoon, they could see Brigg's Brambles, and
their own woods, with their tall basswood tree standing in the corner of
it.

Mister Jim Crow was sitting on a fence stake listening to Mister
Bob-o-link who was singing his Spingle, Spangle song, when he saw six
robins dart into Robert Robin's basswood tree.

"Some strange robins are in Robert Robin's tree!" he said to himself. "I
had better go over and see where they came from, what they are going to
do, and who they are!"

So Jim Crow flew over towards the big basswood tree and sang out: "What,
ho! Strangers! Whence came ye! Whither bound, and who's't?"

A tired-looking robin hopped to the end of a twig and answered: "Well!
Well! If there isn't my old friend, Jim Crow! It does seem so good to
get back home again and see the neighbors!"

"Why! It is Robert Robin!" exclaimed Jim Crow. "I thought that you were
away on your vacation!"

"We have been, and we have returned!" said Robert Robin.

"You made a short stay of it!" said Jim Crow. "You left us yesterday
morning!"

"Can that be possible?" said Robert Robin. "It seems to me that we were
away a week! But the very best part of a vacation is the getting back!"
said Robert Robin, and Jim Crow said:

"It was very quiet around the woods while you were away. There was no
one to sing us a Hurry-up song in the morning, and no one to sing us a
Cheer-up song in the afternoon, and no one to sing us a Good-night song
when the red sun was sinking behind the purple hill. Mrs. Crow has had
the blues all day, Billy Rabbit has been very lonely, and even
Melancthon Coon was asking what had become of you; he had missed your
singing. I came over here just on purpose to listen to little Mister
Bob-o-link sing his Spingle, Spangle song. So you see, Mister Robin, we
all need you to cheer us up with your songs and keep us good-natured!"

"Thank you very much, Mister Crow!"