On Robins , and some others.



159



I fear I have rather wandered from the subject of these notes,

but have very little more to add, for both birds died this winter, and

now two skins are all that remain to remind me of two very charming

pets.



ROBINS, AND SOME OTHERS.


By Rosie Alderson.


Those of us who have their aviary in a country garden have

almost invariably the chance of taming a wild robin, and thus

adding a charming addition to their pets.


It is wonderful how a robin always seems to appear in any

garden, though where he comes from it would be hard to say. In

that most interesting book, ‘ Memoirs of a Surrey Labourer,’ old

Bettesworth, the gardener, thus gives his opinion on robins in

general: “ And it’s a funny thing, wherever a man’s at work there’s

sure to be a robin finds him out. I’ve noticed it often. If I bin at

work in the woods, a robin’d come, or in the harvest field, jest the

same. Hark at ’n twiddlin’! And by-’n-by, when his crop’s full,

he’ll get up in a tree and sing.'” “ The bird seemed to know him, and

he used to call it his ‘ mate,’ because it worked with him wherever

he turned up the soil.”


There are several legends about the Robin : here are two,

both very beautiful. The first, I think, comes from Wales, where

it is considered unlucky to cage a robin. It is said that the little

bird was sorry for the souls in purgatory, and petitioned that he

might be allowed to carry them water in his beak to assuage their

thirst. His request was granted ; and so strenuous were the Robin’s

efforts that the flames scorched his breast, and ever since it has

been red.


The second legend is an old Breton one. It is said that

a robin followed Christ up the steps to Calvary, and that the bird’s

breast became red in trying to extract a thorn from Our Lord’s

crown, in the hope of lessening His sufferings. “ As a reward for the

little bird’s courageous sympathy, God apportioned to him for all time

the mission of attaching himself to those who labour and suffer ’ ;



