wledgments to various distinguished writers in this vein._)

To me the robin is a peculiarly attractive bird. It bears itself with a
sort of pompous pathos which moves me to a friendly tear and gentle
laughter.

* * *

One came to the ledge of my parlour window the other morning, a not
infrequent occurrence. "Good morning, Robin Red-breast," quoth I; and it
acquiesced in an expressive silence. The conversation is generally
one-sided on these occasions. "Bird," I continued, "it may interest you to
know that I am writing a book. What about, you wonder? About any old thing
that happens to crop up--yourself, for instance." The robin tripped hither
and thither with vast self-importance. "Not so much of it," said I. "It
isn't your intrinsic worth but the fact that you chanced to crop up first,
that got you this publicity."

The robin flew away in high dudgeon as Martha entered the room bearing the
boiled eggs and tea with which it is my custom to break my fast.

* * *

How long the greater tragedies of life lie hidden beneath the careless
surface! From a chance remark of this excellent Martha's, I have but now
discovered, after many years' experience of it, that what I have always
fondly supposed to be tea, she, who makes it, equally fondly supposes to be
coffee.

* * *

There is only one other thing worth mentioning about Martha, and I will
mention it. For very many years, as she is in the habit of telling me once
a week, she has been walking out with a policeman. This has suggested to me
a quaint thought, that to marry a policeman is the cheapest and most
effective way of insuring against burglary, but otherwise, I confess, I
have shown and felt but little interest in this _affaire de coeur_.

* * *

A letter lay on the table beside my plate. It was addressed to me. I picked
it up and, holding the envelope in my left hand, with the first finger of
my right hand I tore open the flap. I then withdrew the enclosure and,
standing with my back to the window so that the light fell on to the
written sheet, I read it.

* * *

It was from my sister, my little sister Clare, and it told me that she was
engaged to be married. My sister, my little sister Clare, engaged to be
married, and to a partner in a firm of publishers of all people! Here was
news indeed! I own that Clare's publisher interested me very much more than
Martha's policeman.

* * *

I remember nothing more unt