as been found hanging over a
small stream, suspended from the drooping bough of an alder tree, swayed
to and fro by every breath of air. A careful observer states that a Wren
will forsake her nest when building it, sooner than any other bird known
to him. Disturb her repeatedly when building and she leaves it
apparently without cause; insert your fingers in her tenement and she
will leave it forever. But when the eggs are laid, the Wren will seldom
abandon her treasure, and when her tender brood are depending on her for
food, she will never forsake them, even though the young be handled, or
the female bird be caught on the nest while feeding them. The food of
the Wren is insects, their larvae and eggs, and fruit in season.

This Wren has justly been called a perennial songster. "In Spring the
love-song of the Wren sounds through the forest glades and hedges, as
the buds are expanding into foliage and his mate is seeking a site for a
cave-like home. And what a series of jerks it is composed of, and how
abruptly he finishes his song, as if suddenly alarmed; but this is his
peculiar habit and common to him alone. In summer we hear his song
morning, noon, and night, go forth for very joyfulness, as he wanders
hither and thither in his leafy bower." It is only in the moulting
season that he does not sing.

A lady who used to attract a great number of birds to her garden with
crumbs, seeds, and other dainties, said that when the weather became
cold the Wrens used to gather upon a large branch of a tree, about four
inches beneath another branch. They assembled there in the evening and
packed themselves very comfortably for the night, three or four deep,
apparently for the sake of warmth, the topmost Wren always having his
back pressed against the outer branch as if to keep all steady. Pitying
their forlorn condition, she provided a bedroom for them--a square box
lined with flannel, and with a very small round hole for a door. This
was fastened to the branch, and the birds promptly took possession of
it, their numbers increasing nightly, until at least forty Wrens crowded
into the box which did not seem to afford room for half the number. When
thus assembled they became so drowsy as to permit themselves to be
gently handled.

[Illustration: From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.
LONG-BILLED MARSH WREN.]

THE MARSH WRENS.

A happier pair of birds than these little Wrens it would be hard to
find.

They ha