THE ROBIN REDBREAST 



OF all the old proverbs that are open to 

 argument, few offer more material for 

 criticism than that which has it that a good 

 name is more easily lost than won ; and if 

 ever a living creature served to illustrate 

 the converse to the proverbial dog with a 

 bad name, that creature is the companionable 

 little bird that we peculiarly associate with 

 Christmas. Traditionally, the robin is a gentle 

 little fellow of pious associations and with a 

 tender fancy for covering the unburied dead 

 with leaves ; but in real life he is a little fire- 

 eater, always ready to pick a quarrel with his 

 less pugnacious neighbours. Yet so persist- 

 ently does his good name cling, that, while 

 ever ready to condemn the aggressive sparrow 

 for the same fault, all of us have a good word 

 for the robin, and in few of our wild birds 

 are character and reputation so divergent. 



Surely, however, the most interesting 

 aspect of this familiar bird is its tameness, 

 not to say attachment to ourselves, and so 

 marked is its complete absence of fear that 

 it is a wild bird hi name only, and indeed 

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