60 BBITISH BIBBS 



its universality. The trustfulness of the famihar robin, especially 

 in seasons of snow and frost, in coming about and entering our 

 houses in quest of crumbs, is the principal cause of such a sentiment ; 

 but the highly attractive qualities of the bird have doubtless added 

 strength to it. The bright red of his breast, intensified by contrast 

 with the dark olive of the upper parts, gives him a rare beauty and 

 distinction among our small songsters, which are mostly sober- 

 coloured. Even more than beauty in colouring and form is a sweet 

 voice ; and here, where good singers are not few, the robin is among 

 the best. Not only is he a fine singer, but in the almost voiceless 

 autumn season, and in winter, when the other melodists that have 

 not left our shores are silent, the robin still warbles his gushing, 

 careless strain, varying his notes at every repetition, fresh and glad 

 and brilliant as in the springtime. His song, indeed, never seems 

 so sweet and impressive as in the silent and dreary season. For one 

 thing, the absence of other bird-voices causes the robin's to be more 

 attentively listened to and better appreciated than at other times, 

 just as we appreciate the nightingale best when he * sings darkling * 

 — when there are no other strains to distract the attention. There 

 is also the power of contrast — the bright, ringing lyric, a fountain of 

 life and gladness, in the midst of a nature that suggests mournful 

 analogies — autumnal decay and wintry death. There cannot be a 

 doubt that the robin gives us all more pleasure with his music than 

 any other singing-bird ; we hear him all the year round and all our 

 lives long, and his voice never palls on us. But those who have 

 always heard it, for whom this sound has many endearing associa- 

 tions, might have some doubts about its intrinsic merits as a song — 

 they might think that they esteem it chiefly because of the associa- 

 tions it has for them. In such a case one is glad to have an inde- 

 pendent opinion — that, for instance, of an ' intelligent foreigner,' 

 who has never heard this bird in his ovm country. Such an opinion 

 we may find in John Burroughs, the American writer on birds ; and 

 it may well reassure those who love the robin's song, but fear to 

 put their favourite bird in the same category with the nightingale, 

 blackcap, and garden-warbler. He writes : ' The EngHsh robin is 

 a better songster than I expected to find him. The poets and writers 

 have not done him justice. He is of the royal hne of the nightin- 

 gale, and inherits some of the qualities of that famous bird. His 

 favourite hour for singing is the gloaming, and I used to hear him 

 the last of all. His song is peculiar, jerky, and spasmodic, but 

 abounds in the purest and most piercing tones to be heard — piercing 



