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 in name only, and indeed 
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