"I wonder what she wants.--Good-day, Miss Wren;
are you coming to live here?"
"I was thinking of it," she replied, tossing her head; "but I don't
think the society is very select."
As she made this speech, she gave it point by looking straight at
Robinette.
"Indeed," he said, "you are rather a small person to have formed
such a large opinion; but as you are so small, you are welcome to
stay as long as you do not interfere with me."
"Thank you for nothing, Cock Robin. I shall stay or I shall go
without asking your leave."
"You are a very rude bird, Jenny Wren."
"Am I, Cock Robin? There are various opinions about that. What a
great, fat, clumsy bird you are, to be sure! I would not have you
for a husband though there were not another bird in the garden."
"You will perhaps wait until you are asked, Miss Wren," replied
Robinette, feeling he had better retire from the argument after
this retort, for Jenny, like all females, would try to have the
last word.
Polly had been watching the birds fluttering towards each other,
and was a little fearful Robinette might be rough with Jenny, so
she was glad to see them part company after simply speaking, as she
thought.
This is the only incident worth mentioning that occurred during the
winter months. Robinette's life was happy and comfortable. Free to
come and go as he pleased, he always felt himself a guest--never a
prisoner.
At last winter was over, and the garden was beginning to have more
attractions. There were some rather pretty Miss Robins flying
about, and our bird thought he must go a-courting. He could not
easily make up his mind whether he should bring a wife into the
house, or whether he should go and live in the garden with her.
Finally he decided on the latter plan.
One very fine morning he dressed his feathers most carefully, saw
that each one was lying exactly over the other, that his brown coat
was perfect and his red waist-coat faultless. He practised his
singing until his love-song was all he could wish it. He was
wonderfully well satisfied with himself; but Jenny Wren's
impertinent speeches would recur to his mind. The words fat and
clumsy had especially annoyed him, and he never could altogether
rid himself of their effect.
As he flew past the greenhouse he saw a bucket with pure, clear
water in it. He thought he would rest on the edge and take a drink.
Imagine his delight when he saw reflected in the water a perfectly
beautiful cock
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