THE ROBiy. 47 



of using a knife lest I should inadvertently injure him. He hopped over the 

 children's feet when they walked across the room, invariably took his station 

 on the sofa, and sung the whole time they were repeating their lessons, but 

 in a much lower and softer tone than the natural wild note of the Robin, 

 which is very loud and powerful for so small a bird. Every day, when one 

 of them who learnt music was practising, he perched upon the cross bar at 

 the top of the desk, which was higher than the music-book, and seemed to 

 enjoy the music. 



At length he became so perfectly domesticated, that his presence was almost 

 forgotten by us, and our only care was to avoid treading on him. He fre- 

 quently perched on my head or shoulders, and constantly on the back of the 

 sofa, close to my elbow. He was much enraged when a looking-glass was 

 placed before him, and peeked so furiously at his imaginary antagonist, that 

 I was sometimes fearful he would injure his bill — sometimes peeping behind it 

 like a kitten. From his first visit to my dressing-room, he never missed a 

 single morning in making his appearance on the top of the door, the moment 

 that the window was opened; he was so punctual to the same hour, that 

 when once or twice this was done later than usual, I have known him peck 

 at the glass on the outside for admission, and when the window was opened, 

 he coolly waited on the outside and flew in directly without being at all 

 a'armed at the noise. He never would sleep in the house, but regularly 

 every afternoon, as soon as it drew near his bed-time, before which time my 

 door and window were usually shut, he flew against the dressing-room window, 

 and pecked at it till it was opened for him. 



T was anxious to know where he passed the nights in such inclement weather, 

 and desiring the servants to watch, I found that he always retired into a large 

 bottle neck which stood in a court adjoining the house. He had by some 

 accident entirely lost the feathers of his tail, and being in good case, was 

 nearly as round as a ball. He did not leave me till the cold weather was 

 over; and during the winter months that he took shelter in my room I never 

 missed him a single day. With the first days of spring he left me, and 

 entirely discontinued his daily visits; but I was not a little surprised to find 

 that the identical Robin, (as we ascertained both by his extraordinary tameness 

 and the loss of his tail,) after having assisted in rearing a young family, made 

 his appearance again in the spring, with four children, not at the dressing-room 

 window, where there was scarcely a sufiicient resting-place for the young 

 brood, but at the nursery window, which was fronted by a parapet that ran 

 round the house, and where they might rest for a time at a safe distance, 

 and pick up the crumbs thrown to them without running the risk of entering 

 the room. 



It is rather singular that he should always attend them, and never the 

 mother. At this time he never left them to enter the room, or approached 

 nearer to the window than was necessary to obtain the food which he adminis- 

 tered impartially to all. These visits were, however, of course not of long 



