the snow still
lingered in patches. He was, as he always is, the herald of sweet
Mistress Spring. And when Peter had heard for the first time Winsome's
soft, sweet whistle, which seemed to come from nowhere in particular
and from everywhere in general, he had kicked up his long hind legs
from pure joy. Then, when a few days later he had heard Welcome Robin's
joyous message of "Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer!" from
the tiptop of a tall tree, he had known that Mistress Spring really had
arrived.

Peter loves Winsome Bluebird and Welcome Robin, just as everybody else
does, and he had known them so long and so well that he thought he knew
all there was to know about them. He would have been very indignant had
anybody told him he didn't.

"Those cousins don't look much alike, do they?" remarked Jenny Wren, as
she poked her head out of her house to gossip with Peter.

"What cousins?" demanded Peter, staring very hard in the direction in
which Jenny Wren was looking.

"Those two sitting on the fence over there. Where are your eyes, Peter?"
replied Jenny rather sharply.

Peter stared harder than ever. On one post sat Winsome Bluebird, and
on another post sat Welcome Robin. "I don't see anybody but Winsome and
Welcome, and they are not even related," replied Peter with a little
puzzled frown.

"Tut, tut, tut, tut, tut, Peter!" exclaimed Jenny Wren. "Tut, tut, tut,
tut, tut! Who told you any such nonsense as that? Of course they are
related. They are cousins. I thought everybody knew that. They belong to
the same family that Melody the Thrush and all the other Thrushes belong
to. That makes them all cousins."

"What?" exclaimed Peter, looking as if he didn't believe a word of what
Jenny Wren had said. Jenny repeated, and still Peter looked doubtful.

Then Jenny lost her temper, a thing she does very easily. "If you don't
believe me, go ask one of them," she snapped, and disappeared inside her
house, where Peter could hear her scolding away to herself.

The more he thought of it, the more this struck Peter as good advice. So
he hopped over to the foot of the fence post on which Winsome Bluebird
was sitting. "Jenny Wren says that you and Welcome Robin are cousins.
She doesn't know what she is talking about, does she?" asked Peter.

Winsome chuckled. It was a soft, gentle chuckle. "Yes," said he, nodding
his head, "we are. You can trust that little busybody to know what she
is talking about, every time. I