AMERICAN ROBIN 
327 
is looked for as the harbinger of spring; it often raises its brood under the 
same roof that shelters us; and is a constant frequenter of our lawns. Its 
song is the first sound heard in the grey morning and the last at darkening 
night. In the late autumn when it has stripped the berries from the rowan- 
trees and has disappeared, we know that winter is upon us. Though named 
after that famous Old World bird, it resembles the Robin Red-breast only 
superficially. It has a red breast and confiding habits, but in every other 
respect it is quite different. Visitors to this country sometimes rather 
resent our calling such a bird by the name of their childhood’s favourite, 
until they, too, make new associations with it and take it to their hearts as 
do the native born. At any rate it must be remembered that it was 
originally named “Robin” by Englishmen in remembrance of old home 
scenes, and not by colonials in a spirit of substitution or imitation. In 
fact the American Robin has no need to imitate anything or anybody, and 
has on its own merits carved a place for itself in the affection of the North 
American people that needs neither excuse nor defence. 
The spotted breast of the young robin is indicative of its thrush-like 
spotted ancestor. In fact all the members of the family show, in the 
younger stages at least, this same spotty character that is token of their 
common descent. 
Probably the worst enemy of the robin is the domestic cat, the pet of 
the household. Building in readily accessible places the young Robins are 
subject to many disturbances, are often caused to leave the nest premature- 
ly, and annually great numbers of them fall prey to the cat. The harm done 
this way is to our sensibilities rather than to the Robin as a species, for it 
is a strong and virile race and holds its own under many and varied con- 
ditions. Undoubtedly, sleek, well-fed cats are pleasant pets to have about, 
but so are Robins, and it sometimes takes the nicest adjustment of our sym- 
pathies to balance the scale between them. In general, we cannot have both 
cats and birds close about us, for only very rarely is it possible to teach a 
cat not to catch birds. The cat is an instinctive hunter, and catching 
birds is deeply ingrained in its nature. Of course a well-fed cat will not 
effect the same destruction as one that has to earn its living, but not even 
the best and fattest and laziest can resist the stealthy stalk, and rapid 
pounce, when the occasion offers, even though it afterwards refrains from 
eating its prey. The cat is essentially still a wild animal; it is with man 
but not of him, and has never yielded control to the human race as has the 
dog or the horse. It accepts what is offered in the way of physical comforts 
and takes as much more as it can get. It is, with all its purring grace, 
daintiness, and pretty ways, thoroughly selfish and seldom returns more 
than a tithe of the affection that may be lavished upon it. It is “The Cat 
that Walks Alone” and follows its wild instinct today as it did centuries 
ago before it discovered that man’s hearth was warm and his protection 
and food agreeable. In return it gives unconsciously all it has to offer, 
its beauty, grace, and playfulness. As a destroyer of vermin on an im- 
portant scale it is a failure. In campaigns against rodent carriers of disease 
it was found wanting. At the best it only reduces the superabundance of 
mice or rats and never clears the place of them. A few traps intelligently 
set are much more effective than many cats. 
Of course cat-lovers are as much entitled to their pets as are bird- 
lovers, but they should be required to take proper care of them. Humani- 
tarians should not be offended by the sight of half-starved hunters, with 
