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Rosie Alderson,



or not, and soon there was a pair in the lower garden that haunted

the aviary door for food. One bird was much more friendly than

the other, but the shy one was very intelligent, and when it saw me

about would call its mate to come, though it dare not approach too

near itself. I never knew what became of this pair, and our next

robin was a single bird who also came to the aviary to be fed. We

found out that he had a nest, built in an old can, in the wood that

runs at the bottom of the orchard. After coming alone for some

time this robin brought a young one, evidently just out of the nest,

and brought for my special inspection. It was pouring with rain,

and the poor little thing looked very draggled and miserable, but the

father bird seemed very proud of it. A day or so after, when I went

down to the aviary a most curious sight met my eyes, so curious that

I should not have believed it unless I had actually seen it. Round

the aviary door were a group of young Robins, five or seven—I forget

now which—but I think the latter number, and outside the ring

were the two old birds keeping the young ones in as a sheep dog does

a flock of sheep. The young ones had been brought to see me, and

to demand breakfast, but they did not understand, and were very

restless trying to break away, and the parents had as much as they

could do to keep the little group intact.


My first thought was for my camera, my second—what was

the use ! By the time I had gone back to the house and brought it

my little friends would be tired and have gone. No; the best plan

was to welcome and to feed them, and just to photograph the pretty

scene on my mind. It was very strange, but these young Robins,

and the parents too, all disappeared, and did not keep to the garden.


Another very nice robin was like “ Bob,” a top-garden bird.

We could always tell him, for his upper mandible was very badly

broken off, and this accident looked like causing his death, for the

poor little thing when first we noticed him could not pick up his

food off the ground. We did not know how to help him—but as

Charles Reade truly says, “ there is a key to every lock,” and I

discovered that if the mealworms were dropped on grass that loan

not quite short the robin could pick them up, whereas he was quite

helpless on a hard level surface.


I really think we saved the bird from starvation by helping



