were routed. From that time the Red- 

 breast and the crow held the field against 

 the sparrows. 



The pugnacious character of the Red- 

 breast is well illustrated by the following 

 incident ; "A gentleman once placed a 

 stuffed Robin by a window, to which 

 a live pensioner of the same species was 

 wont to come. The living bird flew 

 against the glass with great force and 

 with full intent. Here he could not do 

 much more than to exhibit his anger. But 

 when the bird effigy was placed outside, 

 at it went the live Robin, pecking at its 

 eyes and plucking out its feathers, in a 

 most savage manner." 



Though far from neighborly, the male 

 is always very, attentive to its mate. He 

 seldom leaves her for any great length of 

 time and never goes very far from the 

 vicinity of his home. With his sweet 

 voice he is constantly encouraging her 

 with song during the whole period that 

 she is sitting on the eggs. When the 

 baby birds appear then he gallantly helps 

 his mate to feed the little ones. This is 

 no light task, for the number of young, if 

 the full complement of eggs is hatched, 

 vary from five to seven. The strong at- 

 tachment of the male for its mate has 

 been frequently shown by placing the fe- 

 male in a cage. She will be constantly 

 attended by her free mate who will 

 scarcely leave the immediate vicinity of 

 the cage, even when people are present. 



The Redbreast's home is not an elabo- 

 rate structure, though neat and pretty. 

 It is usually constructed of moss, leaves 

 and small twigs and moderately lined 

 with hair and feathers. Usually the site 

 selected for the nest is naturally concealed 

 by a dense foliage. If such a site is not 

 obtainable, the birds will often conceal 

 the nest h-^r an ingenious arrangement of 

 dry leaves. This interesting bird home 

 may be placed among the exposed thick 

 roots of shrubs or tree, or in a hole in a 

 wall that is covered by climbmg vines. It 

 may be placed in thick vines that entwine 

 a tree trunk, or in the thatched roof of an 

 unfrequented outhouse. Not infrequent- 

 ly the thick branches of an evergreen 



tree are selected. Sometimes the oddest 

 of places seem to best satisfy the whims 

 of this little bird. A shot passed through 

 the fore mast of Nelson's ship. Victory. 

 This mast, the one against which the 

 hero was standing when killed, was after- 

 wards placed in a park and it is said the 

 circular hole made by the shot was soon 

 selected by a pair of Robins for a home. 

 Bishop Mant has expressed in verse the 

 nesting habits of the Robin. He says : 



The Robin Redbreast makes its bower 



For nesting in the vernal hour, 



In thatch, or root of aged tree, 



Moss-grown or arching cavity 



Of bank, or garden's refuse heap, 



Or where the broad-leaved tendrils creep 



Of ivy, and an arbour spread 



O'er trellised porch, or cottage shed. 



So, as we pass the homestead round, 



At every change of place the sound 



Of Robin's voice salutes the ear, 



Carolling to his partner near; 



And with sure gaze the observant eye 



May Robin's hidden home descry. 



Not only is the Redbreast an interest- 

 ing bird, but it is, withal, an exceedingly 

 useful one. In the orchards, in the gar- 

 dens, on the lawns, among the shrubs and 

 flowers, everywhere this active and huii- 

 gry bird devours a host of insects, many 

 of which are injurious to vegetation and 

 others that interfere with our pleasures. 

 Caterpillars, beetles, moths, earthworms 

 and flies are all dainty morsels that sat- 

 isfy the taste of the Redbreast. When 

 hunting upon the ground, it approaches 

 its prey with rapid hops and seldom mis- 

 ses as it pounces upon it. When insect 

 food is scarce, and at other times, too, 

 Redbreast enjoys the crumbs of the door- 

 yard. 



Hasten, dear Robin ; for the aged dame 

 Calls thee to gather up the honeyed crumbs 

 She scatters at the door ; and, at thy name 

 The youngsters crowd to see their favorite 



come. 

 Fear not Grimalkin ! She doth sing "three- 

 thrum" 

 With happy, half-shut eyes, upon the warm 

 Soft cushion on the corner chair; deaf and 



dumb 

 And toothless, lies old Growler — fear no harm, 

 Loved Robin ! Thou shalt banquet bold with- 

 out alarm. 

 — Thomas Cooper, "Prison Rhyme." 



101 



