ew in the direction of the greenhouse.

"Mother, Robinette must have a lady-love. He has taken the crumbs
away; he did not swallow them."

Mrs. Robinette was charmed with the crumbs--that kind of food
suited her taste exactly; and she hoped her husband would keep her
well supplied with them when she was too much occupied with other
matters to seek food for herself. Robinette gallantly promised to
do his best for her.

Now it was time to seek a place for their nest, and begin building.
Like most young people under similar circumstances, they were
difficult to please. Robinette, having been so much accustomed to a
house, thought the greenhouse the best place; Mrs. Robinette,
knowing nothing about houses, thought a nice, thick bush much
superior. She, like a good wife, gave in to her husband, and
allowed him to choose the site for their nest. He selected a nice,
quiet corner of the greenhouse, beside some large flower-pots that
looked as if they had not been disturbed for a century. Here they
would be safe from storms and cats and all creatures which terrify
small birds. As evening was drawing on, our little lovers parted,
having appointed a place to meet next morning at sunrise to begin
to build their nest.

The following day the sun rose bright and beautiful, making all
things and creatures rejoice, and none more than our two little
birds, who were soon as busy as possible, finding and bringing the
materials necessary for their purpose.

They had such a happy time building that nest; he was so gallant
and she was so sweet. How he sang to her when she was tired, and
what delicious crumbs he brought her! Some shortbread had been
sent to Polly as a present, and it is such a crumbling cake that
the birds feasted royally while it lasted.

At last the nest was finished. The little builders looked it all
over and could find no fault with it. As they were rather exhausted
with their hard work, they agreed to rest themselves a while near
the hot-bed where the memorable fight had taken place. There they
could find plenty of worms without fatigue, and they would sleep or
chat as they felt disposed. When they were sufficiently rested,
they went back to look at their pretty, new house. Alas! alas! what
desolation they found! The gardener, who had been cleaning his
greenhouse, had moved the big, dirty flower-pots, and had thrown
out the robins' nest. Poor, tired birds, they had to begin all over
again. Mrs. Robinette burst in