A YEAR WITH THE BIRDS 
583 
hoppers, caterpillars, and bugs, with a large portion of the 
beetles, are injurious, and it is safe to say that noxious insects 
comprise more than one-third of the robin’s food. — F. E. L. 
Beal, B. S. 
“ In early March the Robins come flocking from the south, 
and those seen before this time are usually the roving winter 
residents. At first they sing most freely at noon or late in the 
afternoon, when their notes mingle with the peeping of the 
marsh-frogs, but with milder weather the Robin becomes the 
bird of dawn, whose persistent, regular melody unites the 
whole chorus. 
“ From this time until late July, at morning before twi- 
light and at intervals all through the day, he sings, varying the 
accentuation of the melody, even while its range remains the 
same. At dawn he says, ‘ Cheerily, cheerily, cheer up, cheer 
up ! ’ While one who sings every afternoon in the apple 
tree by my window says plainly, ‘ Do you think what you do, 
do you think what you do, do you thi-n-k ? ’ 
“ Wilson Flagg, who is always unique if sometimes inaccu- 
rate, writes, ‘ There is no bird that has fewer faults than the 
Robin, or would be more esteemed as a constant companion.’ 
Passing over his habit of helping himself to the ripest cheek of 
cherry or strawberry — which is a trifling harm when compared 
with his good reputation as an insect destroyer, and which from 
a bird’s standpoint of course is not a fault at all, — he has two 
radical defects that detract from the pleasure of his society. He 
is extremely and unnecessarily noisy in his cries of alarm when 
any one approaches his nest, not only in this way calling atten- 
tion to its location, but setting the entire bird colony in an up- 
roar. His sharp, useless call, given vehemently, often without 
cause, reminds one of the silly housewife who ran down the 
village street crying ‘ Fire ! Fire ! ’ — because, the damper be- 
ing closed, her stove smoked.” — M. O. W in Birdcraft. 
ROBIN’S MATE 
Everybody praises Robin, 
Singing early, singing late; 
But who ever thinks of saying 
A good word for Robin’s mate? 
