66 'The Loo-choo Eohin. 



first in charm of any species that he found in the bird shops. 



And no wonder! 



My bird is most fearless, a true relative of our British 

 Robin, of the same size and style. Except for the elongated 

 patch of black which runs along- the white flanks, his colours 

 are distributed in the same fashion, but where our home bird is 

 olive -brown above, his cousin from the Loo-choo Islands is 

 flaming burnt-sienna, and where our bird is brick-red, the other 

 is shining black, with little flicks of white on the chest. 



In the " Ibis," at any rate, Erithacus komadori, is 

 never styled Temminck's Robin, as my bird was in the 

 catalogue of the L.C.B.A. Show, and I should say that it would 

 be advisable to maintain the name given by Mr. Seebohm, 

 namely the Loo-choo Robin. 



Personally I consider it a pity to call birds by the names 

 of persons, if it can be avoided, though in cases of men who 

 have discovered them in their native habitations, it is different. 

 The Robin from Loo-choo, conveys much more than to speak 

 of Temminck's Robin. I have a Temminck's Himalayan Whist- 

 ling Thrush, and if I possessed other species named after that 

 naturalist, visitors to my collection might and would become 

 confused: but no doubt in some cases it is unavoidable. 



Of making of names there is no end. 



Now my Loo-choo Robin is a charming songster, and his 

 song reminds me at moments very strongly of that of the 

 Hermit Thrush of North America. Birds' songs are almost 

 impossible to describe, but I would try to do so by saying 

 that it is one of those that dip up and down, notes, too, 

 that are given forth suddenly, and sometimes end equally so, 

 after the style of a British Robin. A powerful song for the 

 size of the bird, sometimes exceedingly sweet, at others metallic 

 accompaniments introduced, as if a flute and guitar were duet- 

 ting! But, as I say, the similitude to the song of the little 

 Hermit cousin, is unmistakable, although the Robin's is 

 superior. 



I can set my Robin singing at any moment by rustling 

 a piece of tissue paper. Up goes his tail, and he commences 

 by uttermg a call note closely resembling the p-r-r-r of a 

 Nightingale, but without the opening whistle of the latter 



