INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 43 



feathered companions, still we love him best, sim- 

 ply because he is himself a lover of man. So thinks 

 Mr. Jesse, and he has drawn with his lively pencil 

 a most amusing picture of the pugnacious little 

 fellow, whom he boldly pronounces the most 

 unamiable among all known birds. 



" I once saw," says he, " in a dining-room, by the 

 side of an aviary, a little cage, with something in 

 it, sitting on a perch, and therefore, as I supposed, 

 a bird. But, although I went very near the cage, 

 I declare that I could make nothing of it. I could 

 see no head nor any eyes, which, so far, is perhaps 

 the less to be wondered at because it was in Lon- 

 don, and a London day in winter ; but I could 

 see no wings, nor feet, nor tail, nor even any 

 feathers. I am satisfied that there was not one 

 feather, nor the visible rudiments of one feather 

 on its whole body, which was a round and ragged 

 ball of dirty down, like that of a duckling, only 

 not of the same colour. Yet it was, or was all that 

 remained of, a robin, who had been taken out of 

 the aviary, in articulo, at the last gasp, to save 

 his life, or what was left of it, because he did 

 nothing all day long but fight indiscriminately 

 with all the other birds, goldfinches, canaries, 

 chaffinches, a tomtit, and several others. He 

 took them as they came, and never gave them any 

 peace, though a tomtit is a matah for any bird of 



