BIRDS OF THE CAMBRIDGE REGION. 391 



In November their places are taken by migrants from further north, which 

 sometimes appear suddenly in immense flocks and, after literally flooding the 

 country for several successive days, pass on further to the southward. Robins 

 are ordinarily scarcer in December than at any other season, and occasionally 

 they are almost wholly absent during that month, but they nearly always reap- 

 pear — often in very great numbers — in January or February. This midwin- 

 ter influx is probably composed of the birds which go south very late in autumn ; 

 almost certainly it does not include any of those which breed with us, for the 

 latter evidently make up the flights which depart in September and October and 

 return in March and early April. 



Our wintering Robins subsist chiefly on the berries of the Virginia juniper 

 or red cedar. They are seen in the greatest numbers on the cedar-clad slopes 

 of the high ridge that extends from Arlington to Waverley and on those of the 

 hills which lie beyond Beaver Brook in Waltham. I remember when they were 

 to be found by hundreds in the country immediately to the westward of Mount 

 Auburn, where they fed quite as freely on the berries of the asparagus as on those 

 of the red cedar ; but this region has nearly ceased to attract them in winter. 

 When the buckthorn hedges which formerly bordered both sides of Fresh Pond 

 Lane were well loaded with fruit they were sometimes visited in January or Feb- 

 ruary by large flocks of Robins and a few birds still appear during these months 

 in our city gardens to feast on the berries of the mountain ash. 



I do not know that Robins were less dear to the people of Cambridge in the 

 days of my youth than they are at the present time. Then as now we looked 

 for their coming in early spring with eager expectation, and when at length they 

 returned to our fields and gardens, and once more filled the air at morning and 

 evening with their strong, earnest songs and bright, cheery calls, they were wel- 

 comed very cordially and not without feelings of gratitude and affection. But 

 popular standards regarding the taking of bird life were widely different then 

 from what they are today. We were then less far removed from the primitive 

 ages when man was impatient of restraint and accustomed to kill, without let or 

 hindrance, every kind of creature that could be put to practical use. There were 

 birds in plenty, and such laws as had been framed for their protection were too 

 loosely enforced to be very seriously regarded. Indeed, the known wish of an 

 invalid friend or neighbor for a delicate morsel of flesh, or the supposed need of 

 practising a young pointer or setter in the accomplishment of retrieving, was held 

 to be a sufficient excuse for sacrificing an occasional Robin or Woodcock at 

 almost any season. In April, May and June, however, Robins were seldom 

 molested save by thoughtless boys and predatory cats. But when in July the 

 birds assembled in force to attack the ripening cherries we did not hesitate to 

 protect our fruit by a liberal use of powder and shot. Although objected to by 



