"
"In the little houses?"
"Yes, dear."
"Want to see them."
"They are high up in the trees, out of sight. By and by, when the leaves
fall off and the birds fly away, I will get you one of the round nests."
"To put the robin in."
"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.
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