THE ROBIN. 73 



ing meadow. Among all this stillness the Robin pours 

 forth his evening notes, which sound peaceful and plain- 

 tive in the extreme. He will keep up his song until 

 darkness has fairly set in, and unerring instinct leads 

 him to his roosting-place, when his voice, which has 

 hitherto helped to swell the concert of Robin-music, 

 will cease, and all the voices of the birds of day are 

 silent, and their authors lulled in tranquil repose. 



The call notes of the Robin are sharp and clear, 

 and sometimes startle us with their nearness ; for on 

 looking round we often find the author of them 

 daintily perched on some post, or in the shrub near 

 which we are standing. If you observe him closely, he 

 will almost invariably be found to accompany those call 

 notes with a peculiar jerking motion of the head and 

 tail. The call note in the breeding season is a plaintive 

 piping one, monotonously given forth every few 

 moments. 



Robins are not of a wandering disposition, and re- 

 main in their respective haunts until perhaps driven 

 forth by hunger, ' necessity's supreme command.' I have 

 known this bird remain in one certain locality for many 

 months, and never saw him more than fifty yards away 

 from his favourite haunt in the secluded and marshy 

 corner of a plantation. I identified the bird by a greyish 

 white ring of feathers round the neck, and could always 

 observe him when strolling through his haunt. In the 

 breeding season he reared a brood in safety ; but after 

 the autumnal moult he lost this peculiar mark, and is 

 now in appearance like his congeners, but no doubt 

 there he will remain, if left unmolested, for years yet to 

 come. 



Robins do not pair for life, and early in March the 

 birds seek out mates. Combats often occur between 



