d evidently
again at starvation point. Once more he entered his cage and began his
old life, only now he was hung under the veranda so as to enjoy fresh
air and the songs of his companions. For two months I endeavoured to
keep the dear little creature happy; we were all so fond of him, and it
seems very touching to think that in his times of extremity he should
have come willingly into captivity and felt sure that a kind welcome
would be accorded him. But no amount of care could bring him through the
moulting season, the lack of a beak to plume his feathers and his great
difficulty in picking up even the mealworms made him weak and sickly. He
got out of his cage one day into the garden, and a few days after we
found his poor little body lying dead close to the window where he had
always found the help he needed, and yet we could not but be glad that
his sorrowful little life was ended.

When robins have been thus tamed for years the families they rear are
like pet birds; they are fed by their parents close to the windows, and
then come indoors, as if they knew they would be welcome everywhere.

There is one feature in the robin's character that, as far as I know, is
shared by no other bird; I mean his adopting a certain spot as his
district and always keeping to it, just as the stickle-backs portion out
a pond and jealously defend the territory they have chosen. Here, there
is a special robin to be found at each of the lodges; one haunts the
Mission Hall and will often sing vigorously from the reading-stand while
classes are going on. A very tame one lives in the coachman's house,
running about the floor like a little brown mouse, and sitting inside
the fender on cold days to warm himself. He must have met with trouble
in his early youth, for when first seen he was very lame, and had lost
the sight of one eye. Through kind care he has become well and strong,
but he is much at the mercy of his enemies, who often attack him on his
blind side. The conservatory, dining-room, and drawing-rooms have each
their little redbreast visitor; the latter is so tame he will take
meal-worms from my hand, and sits on my inkstand singing a sweet, low
song whilst I write. As long as each bird keeps to his domain there is
peace, but woe to any intruder! The conflicts are desperate, and I have
often to mediate, and separate two little furies rolling over and over
on the ground. I suppose it is in this way that the idea has arisen
about the