de Woodpecker 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'
Woodpecker 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' Woodpecker er lyin' dar;
an' by'mby Miss Robin come erlong; an' wen she seed de Woodpecker, 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. Woodpecker,' sez she, 's'posin' I
cotch holt yer feet, an' try ter pull yer back dis way?' 'All right,'
sez de Woodpecker; 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' cumfut him, an' de
blood got all ober her breas', an' hit's red plum tell yit.

"Well, de Woodpecker 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