265 



Fig. 227. 



Finally^ as my father was trying to straighten them out, 

 they all scrambled on his sleeve and, one by one, climbed to 

 his shoulder from which elevation they made their maiden 

 flights to the woods beyond. 



Meanwhile the wren eggs had also hatched and the male 

 bird was happier than ever. So closely did his songs follow 

 one another that it almost seemed as though a tiny, repeat- 

 ing phonograph must be concealed in his throat. We had 

 visited the woodland apartment so frequently that neither 

 of the wrens paid any attention to us. In fact we had come 

 to know them as Jack and Jenny respectively. Like that 

 of the male woodpecker. Jack's plumage was always sleek 

 and orderly; also similarly and for the same reasons, that 

 of his mate was worn, one tail feather was gone and another 

 shorter than it ought to have been. We made pictures of 



