Part 14 (2/2)

”'Well, I dunno 'bout'n dat,' sez Miss Robin, sez she, kinter lookin'

shame. 'I dunno 'boutn dat; but, den I tink he's er mighty _hansum_ bird,' sez she.

”Well, wid dat de Jay Bird 'gun ter git madder'n he wuz, an' he 'lowed ter hisse'f dat he'd ax Miss Robin ter his house, so's she could see how he'd fix de p.e.c.k.e.rwood; so he sez,

”'Miss Robin, I gwine ter hab er party ter-morrer night; de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r'll be dar, an' I'd like fur yer ter come.'

”Miss Robin 'lowed she'd come, an' de Jay Bird tuck his leave.

”Well, de nex' night de Jay sot in 'is nes' er waitin' fur 'is c.u.mp'ny; an' atter er wile hyear come de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r. Soon's eber he seed de sticks ercross de do', he sez, 'Wy, pyears like yer ben er fixin' up,'

sezee. 'Ain't yer ben er buildin'?'

”'Well,' sez de Jay Bird, 'I've jes put er few 'provemunce up, fur ter keep de scritch-owls outn my nes'; but dar's plenty room fur my frien's ter git thu; jes come in,' sezee; an' de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r he started thu de crack. Soon's eber he got his head thu, de Jay pullt de chip out, an' de big stick fell right crossn his neck. Den dar he wuz, wid his head in an' his feet out! an' de Jay Bird 'gun ter laff, an' ter make fun atn 'im. Sezee, 'I hope I see yer! Yer look like sparkin' Miss Robin now!

hit's er gre't pity she can't see yer stretched out like dat; an' she'll be hyear, too, d'rectly; she's er comin' ter de party,' sezee, 'an' I'm gwine ter gib her er new dish; I'm gwine ter sot her down ter roas'

Woodp.e.c.k.e.r dis ebenin'. An' now, efn yer'll 'scuse me, I'll lef' yer hyear fur ter sorter 'muse yerse'f wile I grin's my ax fur ten' ter yer.'

”An' wid dat de Jay went out, an' lef de po' Woodp.e.c.k.e.r er lyin' dar; an' by'mby Miss Robin come erlong; an' wen she seed de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r, she axt 'im 'wat's he doin' down dar on de groun'?' an' atter he up an' tol'

her, an' tol' her how de Jay Bird wuz er grin'in' his axe fur ter chop offn his head, den de Robin she sot to an' try ter lif' de stick offn him. She straint an' she straint, but her strengt' wan't 'nuff fur ter move hit den; an' so she sez, 'Mr. Woodp.e.c.k.e.r,' sez she, 's'posin' I cotch holt yer feet, an' try ter pull yer back dis way?' 'All right,'

sez de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r; an' de Robin, she cotch er good grip on his feet, an'

she brace herse'f up 'gins er bush, an' pullt wid all her might, an'

atter er wile she fotch 'im thu; but she wuz bleeged fur ter lef' his topknot behin', fur his head wuz skunt des ez clean ez yer han'; an'

'twuz jes ez raw, honey, ez er piece er beef.

”An' wen de Robin seed dat, she wuz mighty 'stressed; an' she tuck his head an' helt it gins her breas' fur ter try an' c.u.mfut him, an' de blood got all ober her breas', an' hit's red plum tell yit.

”Well, de Woodp.e.c.k.e.r he went erlong home, an' de Robin she nusst him tell his head got well; but de topknot wuz gone, an' it pyeart like de blood all settled in his head, caze fum _dat_ day ter _dis_ his head's ben red.”

”An' did he marry the Robin?” asked Diddie.

”Now I done tol' yer all I know,” said Uncle Bob. ”I gun yer de tale jes like I hyearn it, an' I ain't er gwine ter make up _nuffin'_, an' tell yer wat I dunno ter be de truff. Efn dar's any mo' ter it, den I ain't neber hyearn hit. I gun yer de tale jes like hit wuz gunt ter me, an'

efn yer ain't satisfied wid hit, den I can't holp it.”

”But we _are_ satisfied, Uncle Bob,” said Diddie. ”It was a very pretty tale, and we are much obliged to you.”

”Yer mo'n welcome, honey,” said Uncle Bob, soothed by Diddie's answer--”yer mo'n welcome; but hit's gittin' too late fur you chil'en ter be out; yer'd better be er gittin' toerds home.”

Here the little girls looked at each other in some perplexity, for they knew Diddie had been missed, and they were afraid to go to the house.

”Uncle Bob,” said Diddie, ”we've done er wrong thing this evenin': we ran away fum Miss Carrie, an' we're scared of papa; he might er lock us all up in the library, an' talk to us, an' say he's 'stonished an'

mortified, an' so we're scared to go home.”

”Umph!” said Uncle Bob; ”you chil'en is mighty bad, anyhow.”

”I think we're heap mo' _better_'n we're _bad_,” said Dumps.

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