WAYS OF NATURE 



cherry time, unpleasantly. His life touches or min- 

 gles with ours at many points — in the dooryard, 

 in the garden, in the orchard, along the road, in 

 the groves, in the woods. He is everywhere except 

 in the depths of the primitive forests, and he is 

 always very much at home. He does not hang tim- 

 idly upon the skirts of our rural life, hke, say, the 

 thrasher or the chewink ; he plunges in boldly and 

 takes his chances, and his share, and often more 

 than his share, of whatever is going. What vigor, 

 what cheer, how persistent, how prolific, how adap- 

 tive ; pugnacious, but cheery, pilfering, but com- 

 panionable ! 



When one first sees his ruddy breast upon the 

 lawn in spring, or his pert form outlined against 

 a patch of lingering snow in the brown fields, or 

 hears his simple carol from the top of a leafless tree 

 at sundown, what a vernal thrill it gives one ! What 

 a train of pleasant associations is quickened into 

 life! 



What pictures he makes upon the lawn! What 

 attitudes he strikes ! See him seize a worm and yank 

 it from its burrow! 



I recently observed a robin boring for grubs in a 

 country dooryard. It is a common enough sight to 

 witness one seize an angle-worm and drag it from 

 its burrow in the turf, but I am not sure that I ever 

 before saw one drill for grubs and bring the big 

 white morsel to the surface. The robin I am speak- 

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