52 THE REDBREAST. 



seized Grimalkin as she rushed under the table, 

 and compelled her to relinquish her hold before 

 the robins were materially injured, and they in- 

 stantly flew off as if nothing had happened. 

 Whether they had courage to renew the combat 

 after an event so alarming to both parties, is not 

 known. 



The robin has some notes quite distinct from 

 his cheerful song. One cry, which is often re- 

 peated in the evening and morning, can be heard 

 at a considerable distance, and is loud and 

 abrupt. He has another, which is a sort of chirp. 

 It seems to be a note of call, and may be so well 

 imitated by sucking the finger, as to assemble 

 all the redbreasts in the neighbourhood. 



THE ROBIN. 



Pretty bird, with thy ruby breast, 

 Thou art not of a gentle race, 



And yet, to all a welcome guest, 



Thou hast a high and honour'd place. 



There is a tale the peasants tell, 



Which round thee casts a guardian spell. 



Who does not love thee, pretty bird ? 



The story told in earliest years, 

 The legend in our childhood heard, 



Unlocking all our infant tears : 

 That mournful story, lov'd so well. 

 Around thee casts a sacred spell. 



