Baby Pitcher's Trials Part 5

"If we have any robin."

"Got one now."

"But his wing is broken, and he will not eat."

"Too bad!"

"And if he will not eat, he may as well die. I do believe he is thinking about it now. Look at him!"

Flora had made a bed by robbing Dinah of her dress and shawl; but the bird had not moved since she placed him upon it. He was now lying on his side, with closed eyes, and he was breathing very hard.

"He is asleep," said Flora.

Bertie shook his head.

"Feel better when he wakes up."

"If he _does_ wake up."

"Course he will! You do, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And I do. And Dinah does. Cover him up warm; course he will wake up!"

Flora covered him with her pocket handkerchief, which she called a blanket, and tried to wait patiently for him to finish his nap. But she could not help lifting a corner of the blanket, now and then, to see how he was getting on; and every time she looked he seemed to be breathing harder, until at last he lay quite still, and did not breathe at all. She took that as a good sign, because the eye that she could see was partially open; and she called to Bertie, who had gone to the barn for a box to keep the robin in till the new cage was made, to come quick and turn the birdy over, for he had waked up on one side. She did not like to disturb him; but she wanted to know if the other eye was open.

Bertie came up, with the box in his hand. He watched the bird closely for a moment.

"No need to turn him over," he said, sadly. "He is asleep clear through."

"Waked up on one side," persisted Flora; but Bertie knew that the robin would never wake again. He dropped the box, and took up the poor little bird. It was quite dead.

When Flora saw the drooping head, and knew that the birdy would never hop about and chirp or eat worms any more, she cried bitterly. It was too bad for it to go and die just as she was getting acquainted. They would have had such nice times together when the new cage was done.

"Never mind," said Bertie; but he too felt very sorry. He had been looking forward to a tame bird in a pretty cage, singing the sweetest of songs. And now that could never be.

"Get well, some time," sobbed Flora.

"Never," said Bertie, at which Flora cried louder than ever.

"We must bury him, and forget all about it."

"Have a funeral?"

"Yes."

"In a pretty box?"

"Yes."

Flora wiped her eyes. The prospect of a funeral was consoling. It helped her to forget her loss.

"Tie a ribbon round your hat?"

"If you wish."

"Mine too?"

"Yes."

"And wait till Charley and Amy come?"

"Yes, dear."

"Goody!"

She caught up Dinah, and went skipping about the porch.

"Going to have a funeral. Did you know it? Why don't you ask who is dead? Course somebody is. Couldn't have a funeral without somebody dead!

It isn't me, and it isn't you. Nor anybody in this house. Did you think it was? No. It is a robin. You can go because you have a black face.

Always wear black to funerals. I will, and Bertie will,--round our hats.

You mustn't laugh. Good folks don't laugh at funerals, and I don't.

Only bad. There's a worm. Want to look? That is the robin's breakfast going home. He lives down there under a plank. I can't lift it, and you can't. Bertie can. He don't want no more breakfast. Course not! He is going to be dead. Bury him when Amy and Charley come. Somewhere. Do you know where? I don't. Bertie does."

With Dinah in her arms, she met Charley and Amy at the corner when school was done, with the cheerful tidings.

"Going to have a funeral!"

"No!" said Charley.

"Are too, Charley Waters."

"When?"

"Now."

"Where?" inquired Amy, anxiously.

"There," pointing towards home.

"Not at our house?"

"Yes."

"It cannot be. n.o.body is dead."

"Couldn't have a funeral without somebody dead."