perched Ben Weatherstaff's robin redbreast, tilting
forward to look at her with his small head
on one side.

"Oh!" she cried out, "is it you -- is it you?"
And it did not seem at all queer to her that she
spoke to him as if she was sure that he would understand
and answer her.

He did answer. He twittered and chirped and
hopped along the wall as if he were telling her
all sorts of things. It seemed to Mistress Mary
as if she understood him, too, though he was not
speaking in words. It was as if he said:

"Good morning! Isn't the wind nice? Isn't
the sun nice? Isn't everything nice? Let us both
chirp and hop and twitter. Come on! Come
on!"

Mary began to laugh, and as he hopped and
took little flights along the wall she ran after him.
Poor little thin, sallow, ugly Mary -- she actually
looked almost pretty for a moment.

"I like you! I like you!" she cried out, pattering
down the walk; and she chirped and tried
to whistle, which last she did not know how to
do in the least. But the robin seemed to be quite
satisfied and chirped and whistled back at her. At
last he spread his wings and made a darting flight
to the top of a tree, where he perched and sang
loudly.

[[58]]

p057 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p058w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p059

v?