THE HISTORY OF A TAME ROBIN.

SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR DARTON, HARVEY, AND DARTON, No. 55, Gracechurch-Street.

1817.

[Pg 1]

THE HISTORY OF A TAME ROBIN.

CHAP. I.

You will, 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;[Pg 2] 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 procured[Pg 3] with 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,[Pg 4] 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 called human 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 actuated[Pg 5] by 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 conversation[Pg 6] without 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 boundaries[Pg 7] of 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. My[Pg 8] sister 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 my[Pg 9] brother 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 satisfaction[Pg 10] from 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 snug[Pg 11] little 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 not all perish 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.

[Pg 12]

CHAP. II.

Sir Charles and Lady Seymour were the amiable possessors of a delightful mansion. They had, I found, seven children, five daughters and two sons: three only of the former were in the school-room, the other two, with their infant brother, occupied an adjoining room, called the nursery, and the eldest boy was at school. My chief acquaintance was with the elder girls, whom I shall consequently mention most frequently in the course of my narrative, and therefore shall now more particularly describe them.

Caroline, the eldest, was in her twelfth year, very tall, and rather pretty; but her good, sensible mother had taught her, how little personal advantages are to be[Pg 13] esteemed at any time; and that they should be considered rather as a misfortune, when not accompanied by corresponding charms in the heart and mind. The precepts of her mamma were always dear to Caroline; nor were they ever counteracted by any extraordinary anxiety in the former, respecting her own or her daughter’s appearance. Her example always showed the possibility of obeying her precepts, and, consequently, they were never wilfully disobeyed. Few children, however, are faultless; nor was Caroline always exempt from blame. She was naturally proud, and though her excellent parents had, by reason and religion, in some degree repressed this unamiable quality, yet, in unguarded moments, it would sometimes display itself. She could not bear reproof, though, from a degree of heedlessness in her manners, she more frequently required it than many children who are not half so amiable; for she was[Pg 14]

gentle, affectionate, and very attentive to her studies, in which she had made considerable progress. She did not like to be reminded to hold up her head, though she scarcely ever did so without being told; and I frequently observed, that, when told, her heedlessness made her almost immediately forget, and her head resumed its usual position.

Anna was the name of the second. She having less good sense than her sister, possessed a small portion of personal vanity, with some disinclination for study: yet she was good-humoured, obliging, and compassionate; always seeking some opportunity to assist or relieve her fellow-creatures.

Julia, the youngest, was nine years old, and, had she not been sometimes rather idle, would have been a charming little girl, for she united all the good qualities of her sisters, with few of their defects. In short, the failings of my young friends were such as time, and some attention on[Pg 15] their part, with a great deal on that of their governess, would doubtless eradicate; while their virtues were such as, matured and confirmed by their own exertions, and the example of their dear mother, could not fail to render them an ornament to society, and a source of happiness and comfort to their parents.

It is not difficult to imagine, that in this charming family I enjoyed every comfort that could be procured for me. At first I slept during a great part of the day, often in my mistress’ hand, in her lap, or on her shoulder. She was delighted with me for being so tame, and made me her little companion, when her pupils, having finished their daily lessons, left the school-room to spend the evening with their parents. It was then my chief delight began; for my mistress being very fond of music, generally amused herself with it for some time every evening. On these occasions I usually lay on her knee till I fell asleep; but one night, being[Pg 16] more merry than usual, I hopped on her music-book, where, finding a safe and comfortable roosting place, I remained, and ever after chose to go to sleep there. When my mistress retired to her room, she always took me with her, in a little warm basket, lined with flannel and feathers.

I was not, however, always confined to the house: my dear mistress frequently took me out, and I found that the pretty garden where I was hatched, belonged to her; for as Lady Seymour esteemed her very much, she spared no proof of kindness, and this garden had been, by her desire, enclosed for my mistress, who, taking great pleasure in flowers, here cultivated them herself. When thus employed, she let me hop about the flower-beds, and I generally made a good use of my time, by catching such small insects as I could manage. This practice continued during several weeks, till one day (my wings being full grown) I took a longer flight than usual: this alarmed my mistress,[Pg 17] and induced her to keep me at home much more than before.

Having by this time become familiar to the language of the school-room, I began to feel an interest in whatever passed there. I observed, one day, that the children were in higher spirits than usual, and soon learned, from their discourse, that they were expecting the arrival of their papa, with their brother from school, where he had been six months; and as he had never before been so long absent, his return was now joyfully anticipated by his affectionate sisters. But who can express their disappointment and grief, when, instead of their brother, came a letter from their papa, informing them that the former was extremely ill, and unable to proceed, though he had already come more than half way. Poor little girls! how distressed they appeared: yet no impatient expressions escaped them on this severe disappointment. They had learned, from their dear mamma, the duty of resignation,[Pg 18] and now seemed to partake of her fortitude in practising it.

“Disappointments,” said she, after having read the letter, “are extremely beneficial to young persons, and I trust that my dear girls will prove, by their behaviour on this occasion, that all my lessons of patience and submission have not been disregarded. Your brother’s return is doubtless retarded, but I trust that is all. When he recovers and arrives, you will meet him with greater pleasure from this transient affliction, particularly if you bear it properly.”

“But are you really going to leave us?” mamma, said little Julia: “papa says he wishes for you.”

“I have no doubt, my love, that your papa will procure Charles every thing that is requisite, and I could do no more; however, I shall wait till after the post comes in to-morrow, before I decide that point.”

“Your absence would be doubly painful[Pg 19] to us now,” said Anna, “for we want you to comfort us.”

“That is true,” observed the amiable Caroline, “but our poor sick brother stands more in need of comfort than we: besides, it is so long since he saw mamma.”

“Well, my dears, it will be time enough to-morrow to discuss that subject,” said Lady S. “now I must go and write an answer to this letter, and you had better continue your studies.”

The dear girls dried their tears, and, resuming their occupations, seemed to feel their grief alleviated, though the anxious expressions that at intervals escaped them, showed that it was not forgotten.

At length the next day arrived, and the post brought the pleasing intelligence that Charles was better; however, not being yet allowed to leave his room, he would not be with them till the following week.

At last the happy day arrived, and towards evening, just as the children had[Pg 20] finished their supper, a post-chaise stopped at the door. “Papa and Charles!” exclaimed they all at once, and flew to meet and embrace their beloved relatives. I remained quietly with my mistress, and, in about a quarter of an hour, Charles, accompanied by his sisters, came to pay his respects to her. He was a fine little boy, about the size of Julia, though somewhat younger. I observed, with pleasure, that he seemed very fond of his sisters; answering their numerous questions with affectionate attention, though it certainly required some judgment to do so; for they scarcely gave him time to reply to one, before they asked another, so eager were they to know whatever concerned him.

“Oh! Charles,” said Julia, “do you know, Miss Sedley has the prettiest, tamest Robin you can imagine. But do you know whether papa has brought me a cage? I asked him for one in my letter.”

[Pg 21]

“A cage? Oh yes,” said Charles, “and I have brought you a goldfinch in it.”

“For me?—a goldfinch!—where is it?” said she, and ran out of the room, to fetch this newly-acquired treasure.

“But where is this Robin?” asked the little boy: “may I see it?”

“Yonder on the music-book,” replied Anna; “Miss Sedley will show him to you.”

“That I will,” said my mistress, and taking me in her hand, she introduced me to my new friend, who admired me so much, that, if Robins were susceptible of vanity, I should have been one of the vainest.

Little Julia now returned, bringing in a large cage, in which I saw a pretty-looking bird, apparently much older than myself; but as it was getting rather dark, I was too sleepy to make any further observation, so putting my head under my wing, I settled myself to sleep in my mistress’s hand.

[Pg 22]

CHAP. III.

The next day I had an opportunity of observing my new friend, and the companion he had brought me, more leisurely, and I conceived no unfavourable opinion of either. As I was not at all timid, I jumped about on the outside of the goldfinch’s cage, which my mistress perceiving, she opened the door and allowed me to go in. I was by no means displeased at finding myself thus shut up, as I found such little pieces of food as I could manage, and this greatly amused me; for I had hitherto been unable to feed myself at all, except when out of doors. The goldfinch, too, seemed by no means averse to my company, though I observed that she did not like me to come too near her:[Pg 23] much less would she allow any of the children to touch her, for she fluttered violently if they only approached her cage. I thought this timidity very silly, and one day ventured to tell her so; representing, at the same time, that I got no harm by my familiarity, and, therefore, why should she apprehend any.