THE REDBREAST. 185 



however, because its singing is really peculiar to 

 that period, for it is uttered during nearly the 

 whole of the year. But we hardly hear those 

 notes amid the louder lays of spring, neither is 

 the robin then so immediately distinguished from 

 other birds, as the red colour on the breast is 

 not so bright in summer. Far better do we 

 know the bird when want drives it nearer to 

 our dwellings, and the strain is uttered from the 

 garden tree, or the leafless hedge by our rural 

 walk. No resident in the country during mnter 

 can fail to see and recognise the redbreast, and 

 one often wonders where so many can have hidden 

 themselves before. Take a walk into a garden, 

 now, and away flies the robin, going before you all 

 the way, stopping if you stop, or if you stoop to 

 rear some drooping plants, hopping there too, to 

 see if, as you raise the withered foliage, some slug 

 or insect is turned up also which may serve for a 

 meal. Open your window, and place some crumbs 

 on the sill, and though you may not at first espy 

 one single redbreast, yet in a few minutes num- 

 bers of these bright-eyed creatures will assemble 

 there, and one will be found bold enough to enter 

 the room, where he, 



