NATURE'S CAROL SINGERS. 



Cock Robin has received a great deal 

 of poetic attention, and it is amusing 

 to note how differently the bards have 

 expressed themselves in regard to this 

 familiar bird " that swells its little 

 breast so full of song." Some of them 

 say it warbles, others it whistles, tootles, 

 carols, chirps, sings, sobs, mourns, and 

 so on. 



Any boy or girl who has wandered 

 through the woods in winter will at once 

 recognise the truth and beauty of the fol- 

 lowing lines from Cowper's " Winter's 

 Walk at Noon " : 



"No noise is here, or none that hinders thought; 

 The Redbreast warbles still, but is content 

 With slender notes and more than half sup- 

 pressed ; 

 Pleased with his solitude, and flitting light 

 From spray to spray where'er he rests, he shakes 

 From many a twig the pendent drops of ice, 

 That tinkle in the wither'd leaves below. 

 Stillness accompanied with sounds so soft 

 Charms more than silence." 



Numbers of beautiful legends have 

 been woven round the bird. For in- 

 stance, its ruddy breast is supposed to 

 be worn in memory of the day when Jesus 

 was led forth from Jerusalem to be 

 crucified, and the wee bird perched upon 



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