ridge.

"I do not remember ever having seen you dig with your feet, Major
Partridge, but the farmer's big rooster kicked a worm clear through the
fence!"

"Kicking a little worm is nothing! Once I kicked a stone from hither to
yonder, and Billy Rabbit asked me to help him dig his next hole!"
declared Major Partridge, as he stood very straight and put his chest
out. "If you have a few moments to spare I will dig these leaves up for
you!"

Then Major Partridge began kicking the leaves in all directions, and
Robert Robin began catching the brown bugs, and Mrs. Partridge came from
her nest, and found the ripe partridge berries which Major Partridge was
uncovering, but when the Major happened to see the ripe red partridge
berries he forgot all about kicking the leaves, and he and Mrs.
Partridge ate all the berries and never invited Robert Robin to have a
berry.

"You seem to like partridge berries!" said Robert Robin.

"Yes, we are very fond of them!" said Mrs. Partridge. "They are my
favorite fruit!"

"I seldom eat them!" said Robert Robin. "My favorite fruit is a ripe red
cherry!"

"I thought that cherries were purple when they were ripe," said Mrs.
Partridge.

"Some kinds of wild cherries are purple when they are ripe, but the
cherries which grow on the trees near the farmer's house are red when
they are ripe, and they are ever so much better than wild cherries!"
said Robert Robin.

"I would like some of the farmer's ripe red cherries, but I would never
dare go so near the farmer's house. He would be almost sure to see me
and shoot me with his gun!" said Mrs. Partridge, as she got back on her
nest and snuggled her eggs.

Major Partridge heard Bob White calling to him, so he strutted over to
see what Bob White wanted, but Robert Robin felt like visiting a little
more, so he said to Mrs. Partridge:

"You were speaking about being afraid that the farmer would shoot you;
he never shoots at me, but one time he threw a stone at me when I was
picking some of the cherries to bring home to my babies. He seemed very
angry about something."

"Perhaps he did not like you to be picking his cherries," said Mrs.
Partridge.

"They were not _his_ cherries!" said Robert Robin. "They were on the
tree, and belonged to whoever got them first!"

"Men are great pests!" said Mrs. Partridge. "Old Mister Crow was telling
me that he could remember when the country was all woods, and there
were more of us partridges than there w