CHAPTER V.
HARRIET AND FREDERICK VIEWING THE ROBINS' NEST.
As soon as Mrs. Benson returned to her children, Frederick ran up to her, saying, "Good news! good news, mamma! Joe has found the robins' nest!" "Has he indeed?" said Mrs. Benson. "Yes, mamma," said Harriet, "and if agreeable to you, we shall be glad to go along with Joe to see it." "But how are you to get at it?" said the lady, "for I suppose it is some height from the ground." "Oh I can climb a ladder very well," cried Frederick. "You climb a ladder! You are a clever gentleman at climbing, I know" replied his mamma; "but do you propose to mount too, Harriet? I think this is rather an indelicate scheme for a lady." "Joe tells me that the nest is but a very little way from the ground, mamma," answered Harriet; "but if I find it otherwise, you may depend on my not going up." "On this condition I will permit you to go," said Mrs. Benson; "but pray, Frederick, let me remind you not to frighten your little favourites." "Not for all the world!" said Frederick. So away he skipped, and ran to Joe before his sister. "We may go! we may go, Joe!" cried he. "Stay for me, Joe, I beg," said Harriet, who presently joined him. Frederick's impatience was so great that he could scarcely be restrained from running all the way, but his sister entreated him not to make himself too hot.
At length they arrived at the desired spot; Joe placed the ladder, and his young master, with a little assistance, mounted it very nimbly; but who can describe his raptures when he beheld the nestlings! "Oh the sweet creatures!" cried he, "there are four of them, I declare! I never saw anything so pretty in my life! I wish I might carry you all home!" "That you must not do, Frederick," said his sister;" and I beg you will come away, for you will either terrify the little creatures or alarm the old birds, which perhaps are now waiting somewhere near to feed them." "Well, I will come away directly," said Frederick; "and so good-bye, robins! I hope you will come soon, along with your father and mother, to be fed in the parlour." He then, under the conduct of his friend Joe, descended.
Joe next addressed Miss Harriet: "Now, my young mistress," said he, "will you go up?" As the steps of the ladder were broad, and the nest was not high, Miss Benson ventured to go up, and was equally delighted with her brother, but so fearful of terrifying the little birds and alarming the old ones, that she would only indulge herself with a peep at the nest. Frederick inquired how she liked the young robins. "They are sweet creatures," said she, "and I hope they will soon join our party of birds, for they appear to me ready to fly. But let us return to mamma, for you know we promised her to stay but a little while; besides, we hinder Joe from his work." "Never mind that," said the honest fellow; "master won't be angry, I'm sartain; and if I thought he would, I would work an hour later to fetch up lost time." "Thank you, Joe," replied Harriet, "but I am sure papa would not desire you to do so."
At this instant Frederick perceived the two red-breasts, who were returning from their proposed excursion, and called to his sister to observe them. He was very desirous to watch whether they would go back to their nest, but she would on no account consent to stay, lest her mamma should be displeased, and lest the birds should be frightened; Frederick, therefore, with reluctance followed her, and Joe attended them to the house.
As soon as they were out of sight the hen bird proposed to return to the nest; she had observed the party, and though she did not see them looking into her habitation, she supposed, from their being so near, that they had been taking a view of it, and told her suspicions to her mate. He agreed with her, and said he now expected to hear a fine story from the nestlings. "Let us return, however," said the mother, "for perhaps they have been terrified again." "Well," said he, "I will attend you then: but let me caution you, my dear, not to indulge their fearful disposition, because such indulgence will certainly prove injurious to them." "I will do the best I can," replied she, and then flew to the nest, followed by her mate.
She alighted upon the ivy, and peeping into the nest, inquired how they all did. "Very well, dear mother," said Robin. "What!" cried the father, who now alighted, "all safe? not one eaten up by the monster?" "No, father," replied Dicky, "we are not devoured; and yet, I assure you, the monster we saw before has been here again, and brought two others with him." "Two others! what, like himself?" said the father: "I thought, Flapsy, you were to die with apprehension if you saw him again?"
"And so I believe I should have done, had not you, my good father, taught me to conquer my fears," replied Flapsy. "When I saw the top of him, my heart began to flutter to such a degree that I was ready to die, and every feather of me shook; but when I found he stayed but a very little while, I recovered, and was in hopes he was quite gone. My brothers and sisters, I believe, felt as I did; but we comforted one another that the danger was over for this day, and all agreed to make ourselves happy, and not fear this monster, since you assured us he was very harmless. However, before we were perfectly come to ourselves we heard very uncommon noises, sometimes a hoarse sound, disagreeable to our ears as the croaking of a raven, and sometimes a shriller noise, quite unlike the note of any bird that we know of; and immediately after something presented itself to our view which bore a little resemblance to the monster, but by no means so large and frightful. Instead of being all over red, it had on each side two spots of a more beautiful hue than Dicky's breast; the rest of it was of a more delicate white, excepting two streaks of a deep red, like the cherry you brought us the other day, and between these two streaks were rows of white bones, but by no means dreadful to behold, like those of the great monster. Its eyes were blue and white; and round this agreeable face was something which I cannot describe, very pretty, and as glossy as the feathers of a goldfinch. There was so cheerful and pleasing a look in this creature altogether, that, notwithstanding I own I was rather afraid, yet I had pleasure in looking at it; but it stayed a very little time, and then disappeared. While we were puzzling ourselves with conjectures concerning it, another creature, larger than it, appeared before us, equally beautiful, and with an aspect so mild and gentle that we were all charmed with it; but, as if fearful of alarming us by its stay, it immediately retired, and we have been longing for you and my mother's return, in hopes you would be able to tell us what it is we have seen."
"I am happy, my dears," said their mother, "to find you more composed than I expected; for as your father and I were flying together, in order to come back to you, we observed the monster and the two pretty creatures Flapsy has described; the former is, as your father before informed you, our friend the gardener, and the others are our young benefactors, by whose bounty we are every day regaled, and who, I will venture to say, will do you no harm. You cannot think how kindly they treat us; and though there are a number of other birds who share their goodness, your father and I are favoured with their particular regard."
"Oh!" said Pecksy, "are these sweet creatures your friends? I long to go abroad that I may see them again." "Well," cried Flapsy, "I perceive that if we judge from appearances we may often be mistaken. Who would have thought that such an ugly monster as that gardener could have had a tender heart?" "Very true," replied the mother; you must make it a rule, Flapsy, to judge of mankind by their actions, and not by their looks. I have known some of them whose appearance was as engaging as that of our young benefactors, who were, notwithstanding, barbarous enough to take eggs out of a nest and spoil them; nay, even to carry away nest and all before the young ones were fledged, without knowing how to feed them, or having any regard to the sorrows of the tender parents."
"Oh, what dangers there are in the world!" cried Pecksy; "I shall be afraid to leave the nest." "Why so, my love?" said the mother; "every bird does not meet with hawks and cruel children. You have already, as you sat on the nest, seen thousands of the feathered race, of one kind or other, making their airy excursions, full of mirth and gaiety. This orchard constantly resounds with the melody of those who chant from their songs of joy; and I believe there are no beings in the world happier than birds, for we are naturally formed for cheerfulness; and I trust that a prudent precaution, and following the rules we shall from our experience be able to give you, will preserve you from the dangers to which the feathered race are exposed."
"Instead of indulging your fears, Pecksy," said the father, "summon up all your courage, for tomorrow you shall, with your brothers and sisters, begin to see the world."
Dicky expressed great delight at this declaration, and Robin boasted that he had not the least remains of fear. Flapsy, though still apprehensive of monsters, yet longed to see the gaieties of life, and Pecksy wished to comply with every desire of her dear parents. The approach of evening now reminded them that it was time to take repose, and turning its head under its wing, each bird soon resigned itself to the gentle powers of sleep.