76 RURAL BIRD LIFE. 



not wanting in means for self-preservation, as will be 

 seen by what follows. I on one occasion flushed a 

 young Robin scarcely able to fly. The bird fluttered 

 through some dense herbage, and nestled closely under 

 the roots of a hazel bush. Wishing to test its protec- 

 tive powers to the utmost, I first dislodged the herbage, 

 and then commenced a diligent search, finding the little 

 * robinet ' lying closely in a little cranny, its bright eye 

 looking anxiously around. It made no effort to escape, 

 and suffered me to take it in my hand, and examine it 

 minutely. I returned it to its native bushes, and 

 pondered deeply over the instinct for self-preservation 

 existing in this little songster, in common with many 

 other birds, notwithstanding their infancy, and which, as 

 far as I can determine, is never known to occur in 

 mature birds, unless when sickly or wounded. Thus it 

 would seem that this form of protective power is only* 

 put in force when the bird is in a weak or helpless con- 

 dition. Young Robins in the colouring of their plumage 

 differ greatly from their parents. But in their sprightly 

 actions they still show, despite their dingy garb, that 

 they are Robins, and in their call notes they seem to tell 

 us that in a few short months they will don the chaste 

 and beautiful garb of their parents. 



The Robin lives on insects and worms, and in the 

 v/inter months, if the weather be severe, numbers of 

 these charming songsters perish from cold and hunger. 

 He visits man's habitation, too, and regales himself on 

 the crumbs scattered by the thoughtful person for the 

 poor birds in the cold and dreary winter time. He is a 

 regular little tyrant, and but few birds venture near until 

 he is satisfied. I know of few things more beautiful, 

 when the snow enshrouds everything in a wreath of 

 dazzling whiteness, than a Robin perched on a snow- 



