ROBIN AND HERON 105 



and cheery, but as tame as ever. Birds have a 

 good memory for some things. I think my little 

 robin really loves me and feels grateful ; it sits on 

 a rose-spray that has crept under the verandah, 

 and looks down on me while I dine in the room 

 below ; I think it is its night-roost. It sings 

 gently to me all the time ; or rather it makes 

 significant listening pauses ; and perhaps after all 

 it is singing to an answering mate, and not to me 

 at all ! At any rate, it looks quite bewitching 

 there, pressing its little soft red and white bosom 

 against its green perch, and warbling most de- 

 lightfully. 



November 28. 1885. 



Do herons eat little birds ? Surely not ; yet I 

 think it was a heron that to-day filled the red 

 breast of Bob with mortal alarm. At least so it 

 seemed. I heard him piping on the edge of the 

 verandah as usual, asking for a bit of bacon ; but 

 when I went to the window, opened it and threw 

 the bacon to him, instead of picking it up, he stood 

 quite still, with his right eye laboriously turned 

 towards the zenith ; and so he remained, staring. 

 I called to the bird, asked what was the matter, 

 threw more bacon ; but he did not move. Then I 

 opened the window wide and looked up ; and there, 

 passing over the house and flying at a great height, 

 was a heron ! That was what the robin was 



