7 f, BIRD NOTES 



in an old branch of a tree. It reminded me of a 

 bee trying to sting through a thick glove. 



These notes were brought to a pause by a long 

 and severe illness last year, and it is pleasant 

 to record the fact that when, after six weeks' seclu- 

 sion upstairs, I came again to the drawing-room 

 window, I was immediately greeted by one of the 

 little blue tits. It first fluttered before the window, 

 and then, settling on the sill close to me, began 

 bowing and scraping and lowering its wings in 

 the prettiest way imaginable. It could not have 

 expressed its welcome (and no doubt its wish to 

 be fed) more eloquently if it had had words at its 

 command. 



The birds soon came back to me, and I fed 

 them all the summer. Some young robins became 

 very tame, though they did not come much to this 

 window ; they would feed out of my hand in the 

 garden, and sit up close to me whilst I picked 

 peas, and even settled on the pot into which I 

 was putting cuttings. The painting of the house 

 eventually scared them away ; but at one time 

 they used to come into the room constantly, and 

 would sit on a book before me as I wrote at the 

 table. The tamest of them would fly to my hand 

 for crumbs, and had a splendid scarlet breast 

 before it became wild. 



In January of this year a very tame robin 



