"Our robins build in upturned roots, in the corners of rail fences, and in the young pear-trees and apple-trees in the orchard. The eggs are a greenish-blue. The robin sings a full, clear song; indeed, he is our best songster. We have so few singing-birds that we prize those that do sing very much."
"Does the Canadian robin come into the house in winter, and pick up the crumbs, as the dear little redbreasts do at home?"
"No, Lady Mary; they are able to find plenty of food abroad when they return to us, but they hop about the houses and gardens pretty freely. In the fall, before they go away, they may be seen in great numbers, running about the old pastures, picking up worms and seeds."
"Do people see the birds flying away together, nurse?"
"Not often, my dear; for most birds congregate together in small flocks, and depart unnoticed. Many go away at night, when we are sleeping; and some fly very high on cloudy days, so that they are not distinctly seen against the dull, gray sky. The water-birds—such as geese, swans, and ducks—take their flight in large bodies. They are heard making a continual noise in the air; and may be seen grouped in long lines, or in the form of the letter V lying on its side (>), the point generally directed southward or westward, the strongest and oldest birds acting as leaders. When tired, these aquatic generals fall backward into the main body, and are replaced by others."
Lady Mary was much surprised at the order and sagacity displayed by wild-fowl in their flight; and Mrs. Frazer told her that some other time she would tell her some more facts respecting their migration to other countries.
"Nurse, will you tell me something about birds' nests, and what they make them of?"
"Birds that live chiefly in the depths of the forest, or in solitary places, far away from the haunts of men, build their nests of ruder materials, and with less care in the manner of putting them together. Dried grass, roots, and a little moss, seem to be the materials they make use of. It has been noticed by many persons, my dear, that those birds that live near towns and villages and cleared farms, soon learn to make better sorts of nests, and to weave into them soft and comfortable things, such—as silk, wool, cotton, and hair."
"That is very strange, nurse."
"It is so, Lady Mary; but the same thing may also be seen among human beings. The savage nations are contented with rude dwellings made of sticks and cane, covered with skins' of beasts, bark, or reeds; but when they once unite together in a more social state, and live in villages and towns, a desire for improvement takes place. The tent of skins or the rude shanty is exchanged for a hut of better shape; and this in time gives place to houses and furniture of more useful and ornamental kinds."