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THE ROBIN REDBREAST. 



built their nest, only I found them in spring closer to our 

 dwellings than I ever saw them before. I got a nest with seven 

 eggs in an old canary's cage, which was hung up in the unused 

 washing-house at the West-End Infants' School, the door kept 

 ajar by an old sack. The robins had eyed the little wire prison, 

 and fearlessly built a very large nest in the bottom of it. I 

 found another on the top of a coal-house door lintel at the foot 

 of Queen Street — the hen sitting on five eggs. Another, with 

 five young ones, in a greenhouse. The hen sat sheltering her 

 young while the gardener watered his plants. They got leave 

 to fly. But, even in summer, as Tennyson says — 



" The robin eyes the delver's toil." 



Many poets write lovingly of our little friend ; one says — 



"Half afraid, he first 

 Against the window beats ; then brisk alights 

 On the warm hearth ; then hopping o'er the floor, 

 Eyes all the family askance, 



And pecks, and starts, and wonders where he is ; 

 Till, more familiar grown, the table crumbs 

 Attract his slender feet." 



Or, as Southey makes his " Exile " exclaim on looking back on 

 happier days — 



" Still wilt thou haunt me, memory ! Even now I see 

 The lowly lovely dwelling ; even now 

 Behold the woodbine clasping the white walls, 

 Where fearlessly the redbreasts chirped around 

 To ask their morning meal." 



In his poem on " Contemplation " he also says — 



" Faint gleams the evening radiance through the sky, 

 The redbreast on the blossomed spray 

 Warbles wild his latest lay." 



And to show it carries its trust in man further than merely 

 picking crumbs off his table, the late Dr Spence, editor of the- 

 Evangelical Magazine, had a pet robin which visited him daily 

 about meal times, entering by the window. The Standard says — 



" Having eaten with them, it rewarded his host with a song before taking 

 flight. He introduced another bright-eyed intruder, who became as con- 

 fiding as the other. Attracted by their frequent visits to the cornice, the 

 Doctor mounted a pair of steps and discovered their nest in course of 

 building. The window was now left open, the nest finished, and the eggs 

 laid ; and as she sat the clear intelligent eyes of the bird were seen gazing 

 fearlessly at the occupants of the room. In about a fortnight the male 

 entered as usual, flew to the nest, and began a series of shrill cries, flew 

 round and round the room in excitement, finally settling on the top of the 

 pier-glass and carolled forth a song. Wondering what was up, an 



