24: love's meinte. 



cision of his movements, as oj)posed to birds who either 

 creak in flying, or waddle in walking. " Always quiet," 

 says Gould, 'for the silkiness, of his plumage renders his 

 movements noiseless, and the rustling of his wings is 

 never heard, any more than his tread on earth, over whicl 

 he bounds with amazing sprightliness." You know hov 

 much importance I have always given, among the fin_ 

 arts, to good dancing. If you think of it, you will find 

 one of the robin's very chief ingratiatory faculties is his 

 dainty and delicate movement, — his footing it featly here 

 and there. Whatever prettiness there may be in his red 

 breast, at his brightest he can always be outshone by a 

 brickbat. But if he is rationally proud of anything about 

 him, I should think a robin must be proud of his legs. 

 Hundreds of birds have longer and more imposing ones — 

 but for real neatness, finish, and precision of action, com- 

 mend me to his fine little ankles, and fine little feet ; this 

 long stilted process, as you know, corresponding to our 

 ankle-bone. Commend me, I say, to the robin for use of 

 his ankles — he is, of all birds, the pre-eminent and char- 

 acteristic Hopper ; none other so light, so pert, or so 

 swift. 



25. We must not, however, give too much credit to his 

 legs in this matter. A robin's hop is half a flight ; he 

 hops, very essentially, with wings and tail, as well as with 

 his feet, and the exquisitely rapid opening and quivering 

 of the tail-feathers certainly give half the force to his 

 leap. It is in this action that he is put among the mota- 



