THE HISTORYOF ATAME ROBIN.
THE HISTORYOF ATAME ROBIN.
Youwill, perhaps, wonder, my young readers, how I attained to a sufficient knowledge of literature, to relate my adventures; but your astonishment will subside when I inform you, that the early part of my life was passed in a school-room, where, though few were taught, much was inculcated; and I, though a silent auditor, partook of the general instruction. I once heard the “Life of Carlo” read by one of the pupils;I was greatly pleased with it, and resolved from that time to improve as much as possible the advantages I possessed, that, if any of the events of my life should be worth relating, I might be able to publish them. Of the ultimate success of my endeavours, it will be your province to judge when you have read my history, to which, without further preface, I now proceed.
I was hatched in a thick, sheltered box-tree, or bush, for it was not more than a yard from the ground. My father and mother attended on me, my brother, and sister, (for there was three of us,) with the most tender solicitude: my mother, indeed, scarcely ever left us, but when her affectionate mate, alarmed for her health, insisted on taking her place, that she might enjoy some relaxation from the arduous, though, to her, pleasing office of maternal tenderness.
My father brought us plenty of food, which, from his account, was procuredwith little difficulty; for he mentioned some persons who were so kind as to strew crumbs of bread near our dwelling, on purpose for our use. I frequently felt an ardent curiosity to behold these good friends. My brother and sister expressed the same desire, and we frequently entertained ourselves with conjectures respecting them, which, however, always ended with the supposition that they resembled our good parents. Judge then of our astonishment, when, one day, we heard a rustling noise in the box-tree, and the next moment beheld three or four large objects, regarding us with apparent delight. We were all greatly terrified, not knowing whether they intended to do us good or harm: fear naturally suggested the latter. However, we were soon reassured, by their closing the branches gently, and regretting that they had disturbed my mother, who, on their approach, had flown to an adjacent paling, where,in breathless anxiety, she waited their departure.
“Well, my poor children,” said she, on her return, “you have at last seen our benefactors; they are calledhuman beings, and though many of them are a terror to our race, yet I do not think those you have seen are of that number, for I have witnessed several instances of their affection towards the feathered tribe; and a young blackbird, who is our neighbour, informed me, that, during the last winter, which was uncommonly severe, he found an asylum in their dwelling, where a small apartment was allotted him, and that in the spring he was brought near this spot and set at liberty, though not without some regret on their part; which evinces that they preferred his happiness to their own gratification, and practised their duty, though in opposition to their inclination; therefore, I trust we have not much to fear from them, for they must be actuatedby principles of justice and humanity.”
After this first visit, we generally saw our friends daily, and our fear of them daily diminished; yet we could not help observing, that our parents always flew away on their approach, and we once ventured to ask our mother the cause.
“It is not,” said she, “that I apprehend any injury from them; on the contrary, we have continual proofs that they desire to increase rather than to diminish our happiness, but my own experience, and the many instances I have heard of the cruelty of some of their species towards us, have produced, in my mind, such an habitual mistrust, that I never venture within their reach; though I have observed that we Robins approach much nearer than any other birds, except, indeed, when they are impelled by famine, in an intensely cold winter.”
Several days passed after this conversationwithout any extraordinary occurrence. Our friends, came to visit us as usual; we throve very fast; and as we were nearly fledged, and the weather fine, our parents were longer and more frequently absent. One morning, when they had just quitted us, after many kind injunctions respecting our conduct during their absence, we heard the sound of voices, which we soon recognized to be those of our friends. They approached, and one, as usual, came to peep into our nest. “Pretty little creatures!” said she, “they are all safe: really they are gaping for food. How close they lie beside each other, just as if they were packed.” “How I should like to see them!” exclaimed another voice. “Well, I will show you one,” resumed the former; and so saying, she put her hand gently into the nest and lifted me out.
What a different scene now presented itself to my view, to any I had before imagined. I had fancied that the environs of our box-tree were the boundariesof the world, and our nest no inconsiderable part of it. I now found myself in a pretty, circular garden, enclosed by a rustic paling, and surrounded by a delightful shrubbery, excepting on one side, where stood a green-house. My friend (though I was somewhat alarmed at this new proof of her friendship) carried me to a little distance, where I saw three young ladies, who appeared more healthy and fresh-coloured than the one who held me, whom, from their respectful manner towards her, I supposed to be their governess; for they did not call her mamma. They all agreed in admiring me very much, and I still continuing to gape, the elder lady put a bit of bread into my mouth, which I immediately swallowed; she then conveyed me back to the nest, and retired.
I began to relate what I had seen to my brother and sister, which so strongly excited the curiosity of the former, that he resolved to get out of the nest. Mysister and I endeavoured to dissuade him from so rash an attempt, but without effect, for he got on the edge of the nest, and almost instantly disappeared. Just then I heard our friends returning, and trembled for my brother, lest he should be crushed to death. The elder lady peeped into our nest, to see, as she said, whether I was hurt by her having fed me, and missing my brother, informed her pupils of it, with expressions of regret at having disturbed us at first.
“What shall I do?” exclaimed she; “the poor little thing will be killed or starved. I wish I had not touched them.” She then began to search about the bush for the little truant. My poor sister now became dreadfully alarmed: the shaking of the bush, and the confusion of voices, in her idea, seemed to threaten us with immediate destruction. I too was somewhat afraid, but concealed my fear, in order to repress my sister’s.
The search was continued, but mybrother was not found; and my sister’s fortitude at last entirely forsaking her, she also quitted the nest. My terror increased after her departure, but still I resolved to await the event where I was, as I thought it probable that the dangers I might encounter elsewhere, were as great as those from which I should escape by flight. Our friend now looked again into the nest, and her distress was greatly increased on finding two of us gone. “Worse and worse!” said she: “how have I disturbed the happiness of this peaceful little family! I will never again venture near a nest. Poor little things, I fear they will all die!”
At this moment the gardener coming past, offered his assistance. He soon found my brother and sister, to the great joy of our friends, who immediately placing us side by side, as if nothing had happened, left us.
They were scarcely gone, when my brother and sister began to describe what they had seen, and expressed such satisfactionfrom this first excursion, though they had been only under the box-tree, that they resolved to stay no longer in the nest. I begged them to remain where they were, at least till our parents’ return; but they told me, that, instead of giving advice, I ought to take it, and accompany them in their excursion. This I could by no means consent to, so they again left me.
Our parents had now been a great while away, and I, anxiously expecting their return, sat on the edge of the nest. At length I heard the welcome sound of their voices at no great distance. But, alas! I was never again to behold them; for at the same time I heard other voices, not so agreeable, and the ladies once more approached the box-tree.
“Are they safe?” said one. “Oh dear, no!” was the answer, “they are all gone except one, which is sitting on the edge of the nest, ready to get away. How I pity the poor parents! What will be their distress, when they find their snuglittle nest deserted, their pretty little ones, perhaps, destroyed. I have a great mind to preserve one, if possible. The old birds may find the others, and feed them on the ground; at least, I shall be sure that they will notallperish of hunger.”
You may easily imagine, my young readers, that the children admired this project, and were very anxious for its execution. Accordingly, I was taken home with them, and soon ceased to regret the change; for my mistress fed and attended me with the greatest tenderness, and I soon got accustomed to her way of feeding me, and grew fond of her. I will pass over the surprise I felt at every thing I saw in the school-room, (whither I was conveyed,) lest I should fatigue my young readers by depicting sentiments of which they cannot partake: besides, I dare say they are anxious to be introduced to the family of which I am now become an inmate.