But in January we don't have big Robin flocks about here, only just twos and threes that pick round the alder bushes and old honeysuckles for berries.

It was such a cold day that the clothes froze to the line so that mother couldn't take them off, and we didn't know what to do.

Well, we were looking at them, mother and I, when a big Robin flew out of the pine trees and hopped along the clothes-line as if he wanted to speak to us.
'Maybe he's hungry,' said mother.

'I guess he is,' said I; 'the ground is too hard for worms to come out, so he can't get any of them.

Can't I give him some of the dried huckleberries ?' We always dry a lot every summer, so as to have pies in winter.