64 THE BIRDS OF SHERWOOD FOREST. 
*‘ The blackbird’s song at eventide, 
And hers, who gay ascends, 
Filling the heavens far and wide, 
Are sweet. But none so blends 
As thine 
With calm decay and peace divine.” 
It is rather singular that, while the robin remains 
with us throughout the hardest winters, it suffers much 
less from cold than many other birds. It is stated by 
Bechstein that in Germany it migrates to warmer 
climates at that season, leaving in October and return- 
ing in March, the few that venture to remain paying 
for their want of prudence with their lives. A writer 
in The Field on the natural history of Malta states the 
same fact. He says: “ Robin Redbreast comes hopping 
in about the same time, and through the sunny winter 
day sits on the bare bough of the fig, ‘ piping discon- 
solate’ until early spring, when, with such of its kin as 
have passed Malta in autumn and struck Africa, pene- 
trating even to the oasis of the Sahara, again it returns 
to Sicily and Southern Europe to rear its young. Why 
is the robin of the south such a valetudinarian, whilst 
his brother of the north braves the severest winter of 
England?’ The answer to this question is not easy to 
give, but it opens a point of much interest. With us it 
is very hardy, and perhaps one reason why it bears the 
cold better than others may be that, from its fearless 
and familiar nature, it obtains food in places where 
other birds dare not venture, and thus is better fortified — 
to resist the rigours of winter. 
The apex of the gable end of a building is a spot 
often chosen by the robin from which to pour forth its 
song in the autumn, and even in the depth of winter; 
and I once in January, at the close of a long frost, 
