The meaning
of the bird's announcement flowed with delicate power all through his
drowsy body. It summed itself up in this:--Somebody, Something, long
expected, at last was coming....
And then he incontinently fell asleep. He lost consciousness. But,
while he lay heavily upon his soothing pillow, the marvellous Dawn
slid higher up the sky, and the robin popped up once upon the window-
sill again, glanced sideways at him with approval, then flashed away
so close above the soaking lawn that the dew-drops quivered as it
passed. Apparently, it was satisfied.
At the same moment, in another part of the old house, Tim found his
sleep disturbed in a similar fashion; a shrill twittering beneath the
eaves mingled with his dreams. He shook a toe and wrinkled up his
nose. He woke. His bedroom, being on the top floor, was lighter than
those below; there were no trees to cast shadows or obstruct the dawn.
Tim rubbed his eyes, yawned, scratched, then pattered over to the
window to see what all the noise was about. In his night-shirt he
looked like a skinny bird with folded wings of white, as he leaned
forward and stuck his head out into the morning air.
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