390 THE ROLL OF THE SEASONS 



has made it now the most aloof and the most 

 distinctly coloured of all our birds. 



In the invigorating days of autumn, our robin 

 came little nearer than the other birds. He deemed 

 it, however, much more important than they to keep 

 us under view. He liked to see, or perhaps to smell, 

 the brown earth as it was being turned over, and he 

 would follow us or precede us as we went from one 

 end of the garden to the other. That is the charm- 

 ing way with the robin. Wherever he is, round the 

 house or far out in the woods, he is always on the 

 look-out for some human friend. He nests as near 

 to some path or frequented road as he can, so that 

 he and his mate may see men go by. Perhaps they 

 get a benefit more tangible than even the inspiring 

 sight of our noble figures. We have heard of a 

 pair that came and fetched a man with plaintive, 

 beckoning cries, because a rat had broken into their 

 nest. Often must our steps or the trail of our scent 

 make nervous some marauder that would otherwise 

 have found and eaten the young robins. The robin 

 has even its own peculiar smell, perhaps moulded 

 on its perception of ours, a fascinating subject that 

 we dare not pause to pursue. 



When we first offered our robin a mealworm he 

 seemed offended. Determined to begin with a very 

 thin end of the wedge, we put it on the path and 

 went away to our digging. The bird, knowing that 

 we had put food for him, nevertheless came after us 

 and sat on the wall as much as to say : " It isn't your 

 grubs I want, but you." But he could not keep it 

 up, and just had to go and get his grub, and then 

 come back to the digging. Many a mealworm has 



