how you where we build our nest."

"I am grateful to you," replied Phyllis. "You see the cherry-tree
grows beside Jack's window. You might have sung your morning song
there."

THE ROBIN'S RED BREAST[1]

It was very cold in the north country. The ice was thick and the snow
was deep.

The seal and the white bear were happy. They liked the ice, the snow,
and the cutting north wind, for their fur was thick and warm.

One night the great white bear climbed to the top of an immense
iceberg. He looked far across the country. The fields of snow and the
beautiful northern lights made the night almost as light as day.

The white bear saw no living thing save a few fur-clad animals and a
little gray robin chirping cheerily as it picked away at an old bone.

Again the white bear looked down. Almost at the foot of the iceberg
crouched a hunter and his little son. Between the two a tiny fire was
blazing.

When the white bear saw the hunter and the boy guarding the fire he
growled terribly. He leaped across from one iceberg to another. He
went into his icy cave still growling.

"It is the only fire in the whole north country," growled the white
bear to himself. "If I could only put out that fire the land of ice
and snow would be mine.

"Neither the hunter nor the hunter's son could live, without fire. I
will watch my chance. Perhaps some day I shall be so lucky as to put
the fire out."

Now the Eskimo night is weeks long. All through the long night the
hunter kept the fire. All through the long night the white bear
crouched near and growled deeply.

At length the hunter fell ill. The brave little boy kept the fire
burning. He also cared for his sick father.

The white bear crept closer now, and growled more loudly.

He longed to jump on the fire with his wet feet and tramp it out. But
he dared not. The boy's bright eyes watched faithfully. The hunter's
arrows were deadly, and the boy's aim was true.

But by and bye the boy could endure the long watch no longer. His head
drooped. His eyes closed. He slept.

The white bear's growl sounded like a hideous laugh. The little gray
robin twittered loudly in warning. But the poor tired little fellow
heard neither the white bear's growl nor the gray robin's twitter.

Then the white bear ran swiftly to the fire. He tramped upon it with
his cold wet feet. He rolled upon it with his cold wet fur. The
cheerful blaze died out.

When he arose