The Nest in the Honeysuckles | Page 6

ever keeping a watchful eye on the influences
which surround them, and using their proper authority, when it
becomes necessary, to restrain from evil, and guide in the way of virtue.
The child that has never learned to depend upon himself, or to control
his own passions, and to do right because it is right, will hardly be able
to sustain himself when the presence of his parents is withdrawn.
The robins know very well that children grow weary of long lectures;
so they give them here a little and there a little instruction, as occasion
demands.
They are decided in their family government, but not severe. Their
children are taught to obey promptly and cheerfully, but they have no
slavish fear of their parents. Their presence is not regarded as a restraint;
for, at all suitable times, they have freely permitted their little ones to
laugh and frolic to their hearts' content. They willingly listen to all the
plans of the birdlings, and lend an attentive ear to the story of their joys
and their sorrows. Their sympathy is never withheld; their griefs are
never considered as of no consequence because they are brief and soon
forgotten.
The parent birds do not leave their young alone but a little while at a
time. They often fly home to see them, and sometimes perch on the
walnut-tree, and talk with them. Their musical chirpings are pleasant to
hear. We don't understand the bird-language; but we judge, by the soft
tones, that it is something kind and agreeable they are saying. Perhaps
they are talking about their plans for the future, when they all know
how to use their wings, and can fly about together.

Very often, during the day, the robins bring worms to fill the gaping
mouths. It is surprising how much they eat. No wonder they have
grown plump and large, for they eat and sleep as much as they please.
We expect soon to see them flying about from tree to tree, and hopping
along the ground. We hope that great cat, which steps about so softly,
will never find them. She is welcome to all the rats and mice she can
put her paws on, but we never like to see her climb a tree, for we fear
she will destroy some of our cheerful friends, who build near the house
in full confidence that they shall not be disturbed.
The young robins are not lonely in their rural home. The
plainly-dressed sparrows and the brilliant yellow-birds look in upon
them, and, now and then, their cousin, the oriole, comes, clad in the
richest golden plumage, and sings them a song. If he had dipped his
feathers in the gorgeous sunset he could not be more beautiful. The
delicate little humming-birds sip nectar from the deep horns of the
honeysuckle; and the red-winged starling, in his glossy black coat, and
his dashing scarlet epaulette, occasionally comes from his home in the
meadow, to make them a call. He does not like Honeysuckleville quite
as well as his dwelling in the grass, just above the water. If he was not
so confirmed in his habits, I think he would be strongly tempted to
become a neighbour of the robins. A few weeks ago, when his favourite
resort was five or six feet under water, he and his friends seemed to be
in great uncertainty what course to pursue. They had several mass
meetings on the quince-bushes, in full sight of Honeysuckleville, and a
great many speeches were made. It sounded to me like incessant
chattering, and as if all were talking at the same time. I could not
understand a word they said, and I cannot tell you the result of their
deliberations. Whatever it may have been, when the water subsided,
they returned to their old haunts by the river-side.
These I have mentioned are not the only visitors whose society our
friends enjoy. The swallows gracefully skim through the air, and greet
them with their merry voices. The wren often favours them with one of
his sweetest melodies, and the blue-bird flies around the corner to sing
a song on the walnut-tree. He has a curious little nest of his own,
hidden away under the eaves. The cat-birds, of course, are always near,

as they live in the lilacs. The oriole has suspended his nest, like a
basket, from a limb of the great pear-tree; and when the robins know
how to fly, they can return some of his visits.
The old robins, now and then, play peep with the young birds. They fly
almost up to the nest, and poise themselves for an instant on the wing,
just long enough to say, "Bo-peep!" and then away! almost before they
can be seen. Pretty soon they return