coasts, feeling themselves very important. They were greatly amused at the queer blackbird's innocent pleasure in his log cabin. "Yay, Lincoln!" they used to call mockingly when he came out of his little home for a breath of air. "Yay, Lincoln!" And other birds, birds of no importance, sparrows and young pullets and chattering jays, took up the impudent cry, "Yay, Lincoln!"
Of all birds, baby robins have the hardest time learning to fly. They cause their mothers much anxiety, for they are very fat and also very reckless. Before their wings are strong enough to carry their heavy bodies they often get themselves into positions of great danger. So it happened one day that while Mrs. Robin, who lives in the dogwood tree opposite the dining-room windows, had gone down to the drugstore, young Pudgy Robin, not yet properly able to take care of himself, flopped lumpily to the foot of the tree. It was very thrilling to be out on the open grass, and the first thing anyone knew he was hopping and exploring across the croquet ground. He was interested in the wire hoops, and tried to flutter up to perch on one, but fell off. He was as fat,
