  By Miss A. M. STARKWEATHER. A poem for the children. A robin to her young ones said, As she flew home with food: “You look so cunning in your bed— You are a handsome brood. “But I must teach you how to fly, You darling little elves; I think you’re old enough to try To look out for yourselves. “Now you must hunt for worms and flies, You’re getting fat and lazy, For food and drink, your constant cries, Just drive me nearly crazy. “Now I will take you, one by one, And you shall each know how; Red Robbie, you’re my eldest son, Come down upon this bough. “Now hop out on the edge, my dear, Of this your pretty nest, And spread your wings, and fly right here, Just so; now do your best.” “Peep! peep! don’t make us go alone; We are not big enough, Our bodies are not fully grown, Our feathers yet are rough. “You get our food; we can not fly— ’T would hardly keep you busy. Peep! peep! oh! oh! it is so high I’m almost getting dizzy.” “Come, robbie dear (chirp, etc.), come right along, Spread out your little wings; Chirp! Chirp! I’ll cheer you with my song, Come while your mother sings” (chirp, etc.). He spread his wings, and found that he Could fly like any bird, And all around, from tree to tree, His joyous notes were heard. Bird Song. “O, what a great big world to roam!” Said Rob; “I’m glad I’m in it. I wonder how they do at home: I’ll just run round a minute. “You babies, if you’d only try, You’d leave that horrid nest; But I can’t mope here, so good-bye, I’m going way out west!” decorative line |
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