"Dear Robin, do not grieve; I will give you my breakfast, if my mother will let me." "Oh," said Robin, "I do not want any breakfast; if I may not be served first, I will have none." "Shall I ask my mother to forgive you?" said Pecksy. "I do not want any of your intercessions," replied he; "if you had not been a parcel of ill-natured things, I should not have been pushed about as I am."
"Come back, Pecksy," said the mother, who overheard them; "I will not have you converse with so naughty a bird. I forbid every one of you even to go near him." The father then arrived, and Pecksy was fed. "You may rest yourself, my dear," said the mother; "your morning's task is ended." "Why, what has Robin done?" asked he. "What I am sorry to relate," she replied,—"quarrelled with his brother and sisters!" "You surprise me; I could not have suspected he would have been either so foolish or so unkind." "Oh, this is not all," said the mother, "for he presumes on being the eldest, and claims half the nest to himself when we are absent, and now is sullen because he is disgraced, and is not fed first as usual," "If this be the case," replied the father, "leave me to settle this business, my dear, and pray go into the air a little, for you seem to be sadly vexed." "I am disturbed," said she, "I confess; for, after all
