THE ROBIN REDBREAST. 
17 
possible,’ said I to the vendor, ‘ that you can kill and eat these pretty songsters ? ’ 
‘ Yes,’ said he with a grin, ‘ and if you will take a dozen of them home for your 
dinner to-day, you will come back for two dozen to-morrow.’” It was during one of 
their partial migrations that the prodigy mentioned in a book of 1641 took place. 
On October 16, 1637, the Puritan, Dr. John Bastwick, landed as a prisoner at the 
Scilly Islands, when many thousands of Redbreasts (none of which birds the relation 
affirms were ever seen in those islands before or since), newly arrived at the castle 
the evening before, “welcomed him with their melody, and within a day or two 
after took their flight from thence, no man knoweth whither.” 
The song of the Redbreast is also well known, and is heard with the greater 
delight when other birds are mostly silent. Even on dull days during winter it 
■ will sing in rich yet plaintive notes. With most people its ditty is identified with 
the dreary wet days of autumn, when it has recovered from moulting and sings 
its clearest. Tennyson has cleverly introduced the Robin’s song as greeting the 
long-lost Enoch Arden on his return home in such weather:— 
“ On the nigh-naked tree the Robin piped 
Disconsolate, and through the dripping haze 
The dead weight of the dead leaf bore it down: 
Thicker the drizzle grew, deeper the gloom.” 
Save during its autumnal retirement in July the Robin is a perennial songster. 
“ The reason that Robins are called autumn songsters is,” says White of Selborne, 
“ because in the two first seasons their voices are drowned and lost in the general 
chorus; in the latter their song becomes distinguishable.” He notes, too, that 
despite the prejudice in its favour, the Robin (as well as, we may add, others of 
our soft-billed birds) does much mischief to the fruit in gardens during summer. 
Frequently two Robins will sing one against the other. This bird sings also 
very early in the morning, especially in August, when other birds are silent, and 
after darkness falls in the evening. It is said that when one thus posts itself 
on a tree or other elevated place and sings for some time, a fine day may safely 
be predicted for the morrow. White’s friend, the Hon. Daines Barrington, found 
that a Robin could be taught to sing in the style of the nightingale. Its voice 
must be deficient, however, in compass and power. 
The Robin’s nest is found in every variety of position—in a bank, at the 
root of a tree or bush, among withered leaves, or in the hole of an ivy-covered 
wall. It breeds early in spring. In the mild winter of 1877 we knew of a nest 
in a garden frame during the first week of February. The nest is made of moss, 
c 
