pantry at will, and throve exceedingly on his good fare; from being small and thin, Mr. Robin plumped out into a fine fat bird, and became so bold and saucy, that he would so far forget his good manners as to hop on to the table, and without waiting for an invitation, help himself to bread, and any morsel that lay conveniently in his way: nothing escaped the glance of his clear bright eye. His favourite situations were the top of the open pantry door, the frame of the old fashioned round table, or one of the oaken pegs behind the kitchen door, where he would sit and warble forth his sweet song, as if to reward us for the food and shelter we afforded him. But though he was, without exception, the finest and handsomest, and most familiar robin I ever saw, I must confess he was not without his faults, as his behaviour one day fully proved.

One cold, snowy morning, robin was absent from the kitchen much longer than

usual, and we were beginning to wonder what had become of him, when he suddenly made his entry through the open lattice of the pantry, accompanied by two other robins, exceedingly lean and ill-favoured; forming a striking contrast with our fat, comely little friend. It was evident these two were invited guests, by the patronizing manner in which Mr. Rob did the honours of the house; introducing them to his favourite perches, and showing them where the best food was to be found. This was all very well; but I am sorry to say, his subsequent conduct was not distinguished by that kindness and liberality the votaries of true hospitality are bound to observe. Scarcely had his hungry visitors begun to partake of the crumbs that were scattered beneath the table, than he bristled up his feathers, hopping about with a menacing air, and scolding in harsh and angry tones. A battle immediately commenced, which was maintained for some minutes with great spirit, by one of his

outraged guests; but victory decided, at length, in favour of our old acquaintance, he being nearly half as big again as his famished adversary. Having driven both his visitors from the kitchen, Rob returned elated with success, and flying to his favourite peg, sang a song of triumph; puffing out his red breast, and ruffling his feathers, as if to express his satisfaction for having vanquished his enemies.

This ungenerous behaviour, on the part of old pet, quite lost him my esteem; and proved the opinion of naturalists to be just, when they declare the robin to be combative, jealous, and selfish towards his own species, though gentle and confiding in his general behaviour to man.

These birds emulate each other in their songs; and it is almost laughable to observe the airs of offended dignity evinced by these little songsters, if one appears to excel the other in the length and compass of his warbling.

The robin is a native of the whole Eu

ropean continent, and in all countries is distinguished for the confiding manner in which he enters the dwellings of man, and silently, as it were, prefers his claims for food and protection. His attractive little ways endear him to us, and he ever receives a kind and affectionate welcome. In every country he is distinguished by some familiar appellation. In Sweden he is called Tommi Liden, in Norway Peter Ronsmad, in Germany Thomas Gierdet, in Italy he is Petto Rosso, (or Redbreast,) and in England Robin, "Pretty Robin Redbreast."

106

CHAPTER IV.

MY BROTHER TOM AND HIS DOMESTIC FAVOURITES.

the

The Subject of Birds continued-Tragical Death of young Jackdaws-The Owl Otho-The tame Sparrow-Mamma's Singing-bird-Some Remarks on the Natural History of the Owl.

My brother Tom was remarkably fond of domestic animals of every kind, and when a young boy, was never without one or more pets on which to lavish his regard. He was an affectionate, kind-hearted little fellow, and careful that the creatures under his protection should want for no comfort that he could procure them; never leaving home without first supplying the wants of his little favourites, and duly recommending them to the attention of those persons with