REDBREAST. 29 
straw in it, and had hatched their young just before it was 
sent away. One of the old birds, instead of being frightened 
away by the motion of the waggon, only left the nest from 
time to time for the purpose of flying to the nearest hedge 
for food for its young; and thus alternately affording warmth 
and nourishment to them, it arrived at Worthing. The 
affection of this bird having been observed by the waggoner, 
he took care in unloading not to disturb the Robin’s nest; 
and the Robin and its young returned in safety to Walton 
Heath, being the place from whence they had set out; the 
distance travelled not being less than one hundred miles. 
Whether it was the male or female Robin which kept with 
the waggon I have not been able to ascertain; but most 
probably the latter; for what will not a mother’s love and a 
mother’s tenderness induce her to do?’ 
‘Amongst Robin Redbreasts,’ says Bishop Stanley, ‘many 
instances of strange selection have come to our knowledge, 
quite as singular as those hitherto mentioned. Thus, we know 
of one which attempted to build in the library of a gentleman’s 
house, at least so it was suspected, from a few suspicious 
materials, such as dried leaves, etc., having been occasionally 
found amongst the shelves, without any person being able to 
ascertain from whence they came. Probably disappointed by 
perceiving they were swept away as soon as deposited, the 
domestic bird resolved to try another equally sheltered situation, 
and, accordingly, selected the dining-room, which, as the family 
never entered it till luncheon-time, she had all to herself 
from the moment the housemaid had done her duty in the 
morning and retired, leaving, as she was accustomed to do, 
the window open. How long the bird had carried on her 
operations unnoticed, we know not, but a servant accidentally 
moving the drapery of one of the window-curtains, discovered 
in the folds of a festoon the Robin’s nest. In this instance 
the bird availed itself of a situation in which, during the 
greater portion of the day, she was in solitude and silence; but 
solitude and silence do not seem essential to all Robin Red- 
breasts, for we lately heard of a pair which took possession 
of a pigeon-hole book-shelf in a school, which was constantly 
frequented by seventy children. The hole selected was at the 
farthest extremity of the room, immediately above the heads 
of a junior class of little girls, from four to five years of 
age, who, much to their credit, never disturbed the bird. 
There she laid and hatched five eggs. One of the young ones 
