Robin's Rambles

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  Illustration: This Book Belongs To.

  ROBIN'S RAMBLES

  By MAY BYRON

  Illustration: Robin Feeding Young.

  Illustrated by

  A. FAIRFAX MUCKLEY

  HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON

  Illustration: Harvest Mice.

  PRINTED BY THOS. FORMAN AND SONS, NOTTINGHAM, ENGLAND

  Illustration: Robin's Rambles.

  ROBIN'S RAMBLES

  Robin was a very spick and span little person: always neat and dapper,in fact a wee bit dandified, you might say. He lived in the East Countryin a nice little garden belonging to a nice little house, beside astream that went slowly through fields. The house was white-washed pink,and the roof was tiled with red like Robin's breast. He thought himselfextremely beautiful, remarkably clever, and braver than anybody thatever lived. But his wife didn't agree with him a bit.

  Mrs. Robin did not bother as to whether she was beautiful, clever, orbrave. She was much too busy for that. For several weeks she had beengetting a home ready for her little ones, and when you have to collectyour home brick by brick, or twig by twig, it takes a good deal ofthought and trouble. Mrs. Robin was now sitting on her nest (which wasin a hole in the ground against the back of the stable), upon fivered-speckled eggs; so she had a bit of a rest; but it was rather dulland uninteresting for her. Robin, of course, ought to have stayed thereto keep her company and chat a bit, and bring her little temptingtitbits for lunch. But he was so curious and inquisitive about otherpeople's affairs that he took very little notice of his own. Besides, hewas a born rambler.

  Illustration: Fighting for Crumbs

  So every morning Mrs. Robin would say to him, "What is the latest news,my dear?" And he would say, "Really, my love, there is very littledoing. I will just take a little stroll and see what news I can pick upthat will amuse you!" And off he would go--and away he would stay, forevery day he went a longer and longer stroll. And when he came back,either he was too tired to tell Mrs. Robin his adventures, or else shewas going to sleep and wouldn't listen.

  One day he grew suddenly very curious about the kitchen. This was partlyon account of crumbs. He knew the crumbs came out from there, because hesaw the Sparrow family and the Starling household fighting for them. "Ican't be mixed up with people like these," said Robin to himself."Squabbling over food--disgusting I call it! I shall take my meals inprivate like a gentleman." And he was just going in through the scullerywhen he saw a surprised pair of green eyes staring at him as he stood inthe doorway. This was young Missy Kitten, and she wanted to makefriends with him: she was a cheerful little soul and would have liked toplay. But just as she put out a fat soft paw to pat him, old MotherTabbykins jumped up from beside the kitchen fire, and came to stop MissyKitten playing with strangers. Robin departed more suddenly than he hadcome, but Mother Tabbykins kept a bit of his tail-feather.

  Illustration: Old Mother Tabbykins jumped up

  Illustration: Missy Kitten wants to Play

  Next day he went along the stream, till he came to the windmill. It wasstanding still, and Robin was quite fidgety with curiosity. He hoppedin through the dusty door, and the mice who lived there were very gladto see him. They were humble, dingy sort of people, and they thought himvery lively and quite grand, because of the airs he gave himself. But,while he was telling them wonderful traveller's tales about himself andthe things he had seen, suddenly the windmill sails began to turn, andeverything started creaking and whirring. Robin went off so fast that hegot home perfectly breathless. "My dear--the end of the world is come!"he puffed and panted. "Nothing of the sort," replied Mrs. Robin sharply."You wait till you hear!" he exclaimed, and he told her all about it.But she didn't sympathise one bit.

  Illustration: He got home perfectly breathless.

  "I shall be out longer to-day," said Robin next morning. "I want to seemore of the world. It's a stupid, humdrum life, just pecking andflapping round a stable." "Maybe you'll go farther and fare worse,"replied Mrs. Robin. "Nonsense," said he, "it's all very well for you,leading the lazy life you do, just sitting on a lot of eggs. But there,I can't expect you to understand. Ta-ta!" and he disappeared.

  Illustration: Mr. Red Vole came out.

  He crept along a blackthorn hedge, which ran through a field full ofcowslips; at the foot of the hedge there was a dyke, or wide ditch withreeds and bulrushes in it every here and there. This was quite adelightful ramble for Robin, at first: but soon his curiosity began toget him into trouble. He came across a little hole and wanted toexplore it--he simply loved poking and prying into other people'sholes,--and Mr. Red Vole came out very snappish and snarlish. "What doyou want here?" said Mr. Red Vole. "Didn't you see the notice outside:'No tramps or hawkers'? Nobody is admitted except on business!"--"But Iam on business," said Robin resentfully. "Whose?" enquired Mr. Red Vole."Your own, or somebody else's?"--"I will give you the answer to-morrow,"said Robin with a perky air, and he flew away rather quickly, for Mr.Red Vole had most disagreeable-looking teeth.

  "Don't you mind him," said Tom Sedge-Warbler, who was swinging on a tallbulrush hard by. "His bark is worse than his bite. I've known him ascross as two sticks with me, because he said I kept him awake at night.I said, 'Well, here's a bit of willow-down. Stuff your ears with that.'And, would you believe it, he called me names!"

  "Oh, you sing at night, do you?" said Robin.

  Illustration: Tom Sedge-Warbler was swinging on a tall bulrush.

  "I sing whenever I feel like it," said Tom Sedge-Warbler. "I hatedoing things at stated times. I haven't got one of your neat and tidyminds that go by the clock."

  Illustration: The Family at the Mill.

  "But there's nobody to hear you at night," said Robin, who thought itwas waste of a song unless there was someone near to admire it. TomSedge-Warbler told him, "Bless you, yes, there is--heaps of 'em. Why,only last night the Water-Lady--hold hard--I'm going to sing now--it'scoming on--I can't stop!" And he suddenly burst forth like a musical boxthat has been wound up to go on for ever. Robin said impatiently, "Dostop for half a second!--I want to know several things." But TomSedge-Warbler only shook his cheerful head and went on, on, on, on, on,on.... And at this moment there came a fierce and furious wind, aperfectly enormous wind, all wild and whirling. It goes about in theEast Country and nowhere else, and it is called the "Roger." And itcaught up Master Robin and whiffed him right away, as if he had been alittle bit of straw, along with all sorts of other things,--real bits ofstraw, and broken leaves, and old egg shells. Away and away it took him,and at last it let him fall, most dreadfully alarmed, into a marshy bankbeside a broad, where he had never been in his life before. A broad isanother East Country thing. It is a large wide sheet of water. It's nota lake and not a pond--it's a broad, that's all you can say,--withreeds, and rushes, and sedges, and lovely water plants all along theshore. And it goes along-along till it comes to another broad.

  Well, there was Robin, far away from the pink-washed house, in thisoutlandish place, as he thought it. Nobody saw him except Bill theWeasel. But Bill the Weasel knew him for a stranger, and decided tofollow him all the way.

  Illustration: Nobody saw him except Bill the Weasel.

  Illustration: Old Mother Snipe flounced up.

  As soon as Robin had recovered his breath, he also recovered hiscuriosity. He set about rambling at once. To begin with, he tracked thenoises. The place was full of strange noises. There was an extraordinarybleating, for one thing, which he thought was his old friend DameNanny-goat who lived in a field at home. But when he had tracked thebleating right up to where it began, in a tussock of rushes, oldMother Snipe flounced up out of the rus
hes, and shrieked, "Youimpertinent little Jackanapes! What are you poking after here?" And shedrove him out of the rushes with angry words. But Bill the Weaselfollowed him all the way.

  Illustration: Bill the Weasel welcomes the Stranger.

  Then he saw a very odd and remarkable person with a crest. Not the kindyou have on note-paper, but a frilly thing on his head. The crestedperson was very busy diving, and Robin went and waited on the shore tillhe should come up again. "Could you kindly inform me as to the best wayhome?" shouted Robin between the dives. The crested person was GafferGrebe, who was collecting wet water-weeds to make his floating nestwith, for he couldn't endure dry nests that stay still in one place.