18 - REDBREAST. 
appreciation of time has been observed by others. ‘Robins,” 
says Mr. Thompson, ‘and other small birds seem to have a 
good idea of time, as evinced by their coming to particular 
spots at the period of the day when food is given to them, 
and in some cases at none other.’ 
But if apparently unfriendly with other birds, and quarrel- 
some with those of his own kind, with us he is familiar and 
on the best of terms, and though the instances of this on 
record must be few indeed compared with those that have 
not been thus noticed, yet they are most amply abundant to 
give him a character which no other bird possesses. 
It may often be noticed how nearly one will approach to 
some poor man at work upon the high-roads, the crumbs 
from whose frugal meal he has doubtless been made, or has 
made himself a partaker of. Others, accustemed to be fed at 
a window-sill, have often been known to tap at the window 
if shut, as if to remind their friends of their wants. In one 
instance, recorded in the ‘Zoologist, page 1211, Mr. Robert 
M. Lingwood mentions one which thus tapped at a window 
without any previous acquaintance with the owners of the house 
to which it belonged:—“The followmg is an instance of re- 
markable tameness in a Robin:—I was sitting in a room 
with a blazing wood fire, when my attention was attracted 
by two or three taps at the window opposite the fire-place, 
which I found were caused by a Robin. I opened the window, 
and in a few minutes, the bird flew direct into the room, 
and after surveying the different parts of 1t, commenced feeding 
on the flies in the window; I put some crumbs on the floor, 
and he almost directly began to feed on them, and then 
commenced singing; he stayed in the room about twenty 
minutes, and then took his departure, having shewn no signs 
of fear, and affording myself and others much pleasure.’ 
The following occurs in ‘The Naturalist,’ old series, volume 
iii, page 44:—‘Harly in winter, a Robin was seen to frequent 
a mulberry tree close to the window of the late Mr. Haydon’s 
printing office, (the father of the late well-known artist,) 
where it sang very sweetly. ‘The workmen opened the window, 
and at length the bird flew in, and being fed, did not seem at 
all uneasy of its new situation. It sang almost daily, generally 
in the morning and evening, wholly disregarding the operations 
of the workmen, and apparently well satisfied with its new 
companions, until the following spring. The window being 
opened at that season, it flew away, but, singular to say, 
