The Story of the Robins/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI.
THE FEATHERED NEIGHBOURS.
You may remember, my young readers, that Frederick obtained from his mamma a promise that when the business of daily instruction was finished, he and his sister should go into the orchard in search of the robins. As soon, therefore, as the air was sufficiently cool she took them with her, and arrived just after the parent birds had taken their young ones back to the nest. Robin was then left by himself, and kept hopping about, and fearing no danger, got into the middle of the walk. Frederick descried him at a distance, and eagerly called out, "There's one of them, I declare!" and before his mamma observed him he ran to the place, and clapped his little hand over it, exulting that he had caught it. The pressure of his hand hurt Robin's wing, who sent forth piteous cries, on which Frederick let him go, saying, "I won't hurt you, you little thing."
Harriet, who saw him catch the bird, ran as fast as possible to prevent his detaining it, and perceived, as Robin hopped away, that he was lame, on which she concluded that her brother had hurt him; but on Frederick's assuring her that his wing hung down when he first saw him, Mrs. Benson said,—
"It is most likely he has been lamed by some accident, which has prevented his going with the others to the nest; and if that is the case, it will be humane and charitable to take care of him."
Frederick was delighted to hear her say so, and asked whether he might carry him home.
"Yes," said his mamma, "provided you can take him safely."
"Shall I carry him, madam?" said Joe; "he can lie nicely in my hat."
This was an excellent scheme, and all parties approved of it; so Frederick took some of the soft grass that was mowed down to put at the bottom, and poor Robin was safely deposited in this vehicle, which served him for a litter; and perceiving into what hands he had fallen, he inwardly rejoiced, knowing that he had an excellent chance of being provided for, as well as of seeing his dear relations again. I need not say that great care was taken of him, and you will easily suppose he had a more comfortable night than that he had passed in the shed.
When Frederick and Harriet arose the next morning, one of their first cares was to feed the birds, and they had the pleasure to see their nestlings in a very thriving condition; both the linnet and the blackbird now hopped out of their nests to be fed, to the great amusement of Frederick; but this pleasure was soon damped by an unlucky accident, for the blackbird being placed in a window which was open, hopped too near the edge, and fell to the ground, where he was snapped up by a dog, and torn to pieces in an instant. Frederick began to lament as before but on his sister's reminding him that the creature was past the sense of pain, he restrained himself, and turned his attention to the linnet, which he put into a cage, that he might not meet the same fate. He then went to feed the flock, and to inquire after Robin, whom Mrs. Benson had taken into her own room, lest Frederick should handle and hurt him. To his great joy he found him much better, for he could begin to use his injured wing; Frederick was therefore trusted to carry him into the breakfast parlour, where he placed him as has been already described. For some time the young redbreasts behaved very well; but at length Dicky, familiarized by the kind treatment he met with, forgot his father's injunctions, and began to hop about in a very rude manner; he even jumped into the plate of bread and butter, and, wishing to taste the tea, hopped on the edge of a cup, but dipping his foot in the hot liquor, was glad to make a hasty retreat, to the great amusement of Frederick. Flapsy took the liberty of pecking at the sugar, but found it too hard for her tender beak. For these liberties, their mother reproved them, saying she would never bring them again, if they were guilty of such rudeness as to take what was not offered them.
As their longer stay would have broken in on a plan which Mrs. Benson had concerted, she rang her bell, and the footman came to remove the breakfast things; on which the old birds, having taken leave of Robin, and promised to come again the next day, flew out at the window, followed by Dicky, Flapsy, and Pecksy. Robin was safely deposited in a cage, and passed a happy day, being often allowed to hop out in order to be fed.
The parent birds alighted in the court, and conducted their little ones to the water which was set out for them, after which they all returned to the nest; here the young ones rested till the afternoon, and then their parents took them out in order to show them the orchard.
"You have not yet seen," said the father, "the whole extent of this place, and I wish to introduce you to our neighbours."
He then led the way to a pear-tree, in which a linnet had built her nest. The old linnets seemed much pleased to see their friends the red-breasts, who with great pride introduced their little family to them.
"My own nestlings are just ready to fly," said the hen linnet, "and I hope will make acquaintance with them; for birds so well instructed, as I make no doubt your offspring are, must be very desirable companions."
The little redbreasts were delighted with the hopes of having some agreeable friends; and the old ones replied that they had themselves received so much pleasure from social friendship that they wished their young ones to cultivate it.
They then flew on to a cherry tree, in which were a pair of chaffinches in great agitation, endeavouring to part one of their own brood and a young sparrow which were engaged in a furious battle; but in vain: neither of the combatants would desist till the chaffinch dropped dead to the ground. His parents were greatly shocked at this accident; on which the cock redbreast attempted to comfort them with his strains; but finding them deaf to his music, he begged to know the cause of the quarrel.
"Oh," answered the hen chaffinch, "my nestling is lost through his own folly. I cautioned him repeatedly not to make acquaintance with sparrows, knowing they would lead him into mischief; but no remonstrances would prevail. As soon as he began to peck about, he formed a friendship with one of that voracious breed, who undertook to teach him to fly and provide for himself; so he left his parents, and continually followed the sparrow, who taught him to steal corn and other things, and to quarrel with every bird he met: I expected to see him killed continually. At length his companion grew tired of him, and picked a quarrel, which ended as you have seen. However, this is better than if he had been caught by men and hung up. as I have seen many a bird, for a spectacle, to deter others from stealing. Let me advise you, my young friends," said she, addressing herself to the young redbreasts, "to follow your parents' directions in every respect, and avoid bad company."
She then, accompanied by her mate, flew back to her nest, in order to acquaint the rest of the family with this dreadful catastrophe, and the redbreasts took another flight.
They alighted on the ground, and began pecking about, when all of a sudden they heard a strange noise, which rather alarmed the young ones. Their father desired them to have no fears, but to follow him. He led them to the top of a high tree, in which was a nest of magpies, who had the day before made an excursion round the orchard, and were conversing on what they had seen, but in such a confused manner that there was no understanding them; one chattered of one thing, and one of another: in short, all were eager to speak, and none inclined to hear.
"What a set of foolish, ill-bred little creatures are these!" said the cock redbreast. "If they would talk one at a time, what each says might afford entertainment to the rest; but by chattering all together in this manner they are quite disagreeable. Take warning from them, my nestlings, and avoid the fault which renders them so ridiculous."
So saying, he flew on, and they soon saw a cuckoo surrounded by a number of birds, who had been pecking at her till she had scarce a feather left upon her breast, while she kept repeating her own dull note, "Cuckoo! cuckoo!" incessantly. "Get back again to your own country," said a thrush; "what business have you in ours, sucking the eggs and taking the nests of any bird you meet with? Surely it might be sufficient that you have the privilege of building for yourself, as we do who are natives; but you have no right to seize upon our labours and devour our offspring."
"The cuckoo deserves her fate," said the hen redbreast: "though I am far from bearing enmity to foreign birds in general, I detest such characters as her. I wonder mankind do not drive cuckoos away; but I suppose it is on account of their being the harbingers of summer. How different is the character of the swallow! he comes here to enjoy the mildness of the climate, and confers a benefit on the land by destroying many noxious insects. I rejoice to see that race sporting in the air, and have had high pleasure in conversing with them; for, as they are great travellers, they have much to relate. But come, let us go on."
They soon came to a hollow tree. "Peep into this hole," said the cock bird to his young ones. They did so, and beheld a nest of young owls. "What a set of ugly creatures!" said Dicky; "surely you do not intend to show your frightful faces in the world! Did ever any one see such dull eyes, and such a frightful muffle of feathers?"
"Whoever you are that reproach us with the want of beauty, you do not show your own good sense," replied one of the little owls; "perhaps we may have qualities which render us as amiable as yourselves. You do not appear to know that we are night, and not day birds; the quantity of feathers in which we are muffled up is very comfortable to us when we are out in the cold; and I can show you a pair of eyes which, if you are little birds, will frighten you out of your wits." He then drew back the film which was given him that the strong light of day might not injure his sight, and stared full at Dicky, who was struck with astonishment.
At that instant the parent owl returned, and seeing a parcel of strangers looking into her nest, she set up a screeching, which made the whole party take wing. As soon as they stopped to rest, the cock redbreast, who was really frightened, as well as his mate and family, recollected himself, and said, "Well, Dicky, how did you like the owl's eyes? I fancy they proved brighter than you expected; but had they even been as ugly as you supposed, it was very rude and silly in you to notice it. You ought never to censure any bird for natural deformities, since no one contracts them by choice; and what appears disagreeable to you may be pleasing in the eyes of another. Besides, you should be particularly careful not to insult strangers, because you cannot know their deserts, nor what power they may have of revenging themselves. You may think yourself happy if you never meet one of these owls by night, for I assure you they often feed upon little birds like us, and you have no reason to think they will spare you after the affront you have given them. But come, let us fly on." However, before we give any further account of their adventures, let us return to their benefactors.