seen thee before to-day. Has tha' begun tha' courtin' this early in th'
season? Tha'rt too forrad."

The bird put his tiny head on one side and looked up at him with his
soft bright eye which was like a black dewdrop. He seemed quite familiar
and not the least afraid. He hopped about and pecked the earth briskly,
looking for seeds and insects. It actually gave Mary a queer feeling in
her heart, because he was so pretty and cheerful and seemed so like a
person. He had a tiny plump body and a delicate beak, and slender
delicate legs.

"Will he always come when you call him?" she asked almost in a whisper.

"Aye, that he will. I've knowed him ever since he was a fledgling. He
come out of th' nest in th' other garden an' when first he flew over
th' wall he was too weak to fly back for a few days an' we got
friendly. When he went over th' wall again th' rest of th' brood was
gone an' he was lonely an' he come back to me."

"What kind of a bird is he?" Mary asked.

"Doesn't tha' know? He's a robin redbreast an' they're th' friendliest,
curiousest birds alive. They're almost as friendly as dogs--if you know
how to get on with 'em. Watch him peckin' about there an' lookin' round
at us now an' again. He knows we're talkin' about him."

It was the queerest thing in the world to see the old fellow. He looked
at the plump little scarlet-waistcoated bird as if he were both proud
and fond of him.