learned to fly after a while, as well as their parents, though before they
left for the season, some cruel boy threw a stone at one of them and broke
his wing. Poor fellow! he suffered a great deal of pain, and his parents
and brothers and sisters were very sad about it. They seemed for a while
hardly to know what to do. Probably there were no surgeons among them, who
understood how to manage broken limbs. And they had a long talk
together--so Julia said--and finally hit upon this plan. Willy--that was
the name my friend gave to the lame bird--was to go into the house, and see
if something could not be done for him there.

Accordingly, one bright morning in June, almost as soon as breakfast was
over, the little invalid, attended by the rest of the family, came to the
door, where Julia was waiting to receive them--for she fed them regularly
every day--and then, after they had eaten what they wanted, instead of
flying away, as they were accustomed to do, little Willy hopped into the
kitchen, while the rest remained near the door. Julia thought that was
queer enough, and she ran and told her mother. "I wonder if I can coax the
little fellow to stay with me until his wing gets well," she said. "I wish
I could. Oh, I should dearly love to take care of him, and I am sure we can
make him well soon."

[Illustration: JULIA'S PET ROBIN.]

Little Willy did not say--at least he did not say in our language--that he
should be happy to place himself awhile under his friend Julia's care. But
he seemed very content, and soon made himself quite at home. Though he had
perfect liberty to go just where he pleased, and would often venture out of
the house, yet he evidently considered himself an inmate of Mr Cornish's
family. Under the care especially of Miss Julia, he became so tame that she
could take him in her lap and stroke his feathers. Willy was a great
favorite in the family, after he had been there a day or two. No one did
any thing for his wing. They did not understand setting birds' wings, when
they were broken. Still, Willy got better in a very short time, without the
assistance of a surgeon. A great many sick people, you know, need the care
of a nurse more than that of a doctor. That was the case with Willy, it
would seem. In less than three weeks his wing was entirely well, and he was
able to take care of himself. So he warbled his adieu to the family under
whose roof he had been so kindly treated, and flew away with the other