his invitation.

Before many days we had fully identified the pair. The song had puzzled
me at first, for though extraordinary in volume for a bird of his size,
and possessing that indefinable wren quality, that abandon and
unexpectedness, as if it were that instant inspired, it had yet few
notes, and I missed the exquisite tremolo that makes the song of the
winter-wren so bewitching. But I "studied him up," and learned that his
finest and most characteristic song is uttered in the spring only. After
nesting has begun, he gives merely these musical calls, which, though
delightful, do not compare--say the books--with his ante-nuptial
performance. I was too late for that, but I was glad and thankful for
these.

Moreover, the wren varied his songs as the days went on. There were from
two to five notes in a clause, never more, and commonly but three. This
clause he repeated again and again during the whole of one visit; but
the next time he came he had a new one, which likewise he kept to while
he stayed. Again, when, some days later, he took part in feeding, he
frequently changed the song as he left the nest. Struck by the variety
he gave to his few notes, after some days I began to take them down in
syllables as they expressed themselves to my ear, for they were sharp
and distinct. Of course, these syllables resemble his sound about as a
dried flower resembles the living blossom, but they serve the same
purpose, to reproduce them in memory. In that way I recorded in three
days eighteen different arrangements of his notes. Doubtless there were
many more; indeed, he seemed to delight in inventing new combinations,
and his taste evidently agreed with mine, for when he succeeded in
evolving a particularly charming one, he did not easily change it. One
that specially pleased me I put down as "Shame-ber-ee!" and this was his
favorite, too, for after the day he began it, he sang it oftener than
any other. It had a peculiarly joyous ring, the second note being a
third below the first, and the third fully an octave higher than the
second. I believe he had just then struck upon it, his enjoyment of it
was so plain to see.

The Wren's Court was a distracting spot to study one pair of small
birds. So many others came about, and always, it seemed, in some crisis
in wren affairs, when I dared not take my eyes from my glass, lest I
lose the sequence of events. There appeared sometimes to be a thousand
whispering, squealing, and smack