16 REDBREAST. 
it with one of its own species stuffed, of which I have a 
very fine one. I first of all placed it inside the window, so 
that the Robin in the garden could see it, and he immedi- 
ately fiew to the window and commenced pecking at the glass; 
but not succeeding in getting at the stuffed one, he flew 
away for about a minute, and then returned and commenced 
again at the glass, through which he could see the bird. I 
then placed the stuffed Robin outside, on the window-sill, and 
went and hid myself, so that I could see what the Robin 
would do now that he could get at it; he very soon returned, 
and commenced pecking at the stuffed bird most furiously. 
At last he knocked it off the sill of the window; he followed 
it as it fell down, and seemed to be quite pleased at being 
victorious, and continued pecking at and pulling feathers out 
of it, while it was lying on the ground. I then came out 
of my hiding-place, and frightened him away, or else he 
would soon have spoiled my bird.’ 
An exactly similar circumstance has also been related to 
me by Dr. Henry Moses, of Appleby, since the above was 
registered. He had placed a recently-stuffed Robin im the 
garden to dry; some Sparrows and a Dunnock soon began ~ 
to eye him curiously, and with evident signs of hostility; 
they did not, however, seem to like his look—a piece of wire 
which had been left projecting from his head giving him a 
rather fearful appearance—and sheered off. No sooner, how- 
ever, had they been gone than a Robin made a most furious 
attack upon his supposed rival, dashed at him with the greatest 
violence, buffeted him with his wings, knocked out one of 
his eyes, and so miserably mauled and distorted him, that he 
was rendered totally useless as a specimen of the art of 
taxidermy. It must be acknowledged that the Robin is of 
a very masterful temper and disposition. You are looking 
out of your window, watching perhaps a Dunnock, a Tomtit, 
or even a Sparrow in the tree in front of it: on a sudden 
the bird is flown, vanished as if by the wave of the wand 
of a magician; but the next moment the cause appears, and, 
in the place of the quiet Shuffle-wing or lively Titmouse, 
the necromancer, a pert Redbreast, stands, whose only object 
in appearing there seems to have been to dislodge those, 
who would have remained with a Sparrow or a Thrush, 
undisturbmg and undisturbed. He is even unsociable with 
those of his own kind; in winter so many as two are 
scarcely seen together, and as for other species he rarely 
