THE ROBIN 245 



following Sunday the nest was finished, and by the next 

 the eggs were laid, and the brave little mother-bird sat on 

 the nest all through service-time. The noises around her 

 — the organ, the singing, the preaching, the coming and 

 going of the congregation — may have scared her and made 

 her uneasy, but she stayed. And at last, four baby 

 Robins were hatched, and fed, and reared on the book- 

 ledge of that chapel pew. 



Two other curious places chosen for nest-building were 

 the centre of a large cabbage growing in a garden, and the 

 head of a stuffed shark in a taxidermist's work-room. 



In a disused stable behind a house at Dundrum, in 

 Ireland, there hung a human skull, which had been left 

 there by one of the family, a doctor, who had gone abroad. 

 The skull hung upside down against the wall, and upon it 

 a Robin had built her nest. Here she hatched out her 

 family, despite what to her must have been the tiresome 

 passing to and fro of many persons, including three 

 children and the gardener who kept his tools in the stable. 



That took place only a short time ago, but here is 

 another case which carries our thoughts back to the great 

 sea-fight of Trafalgar over a century ago. The flagship o^ 

 Lord Nelson on that ever-to-be-remembered day was, as 

 all my readers know, the old Victory, which now lies 

 moored in Portsmouth Harbour. In the great battle she 

 was so badly knocked about that it was a wonder she 

 ever reached England in safety. Her rigging was cut to 

 shreds, her masts shattered, and her oaken sides pierced 

 through and through 



'■In the crash of the cannonade and the desperate strife." 



A sea-going ship she would never be again, it was quite 

 clear, and a good deal of repairing and re-fitting was 



