Massachusetts Audubon Society 5 



THE STORY OF A HOUSE WREN 



To those who are intimately acquainted with the little house wren, the 

 following account will not be particularly exciting. To us it was a novel 

 experience to have a pair of house wrens for our neighbors for a period of 

 six weeks this summer. 



Once in my childhood I saw the nest of a house wren. It was in a hole 

 in an old pear tree on my grandfather's farm. Since we have lived in the 

 country in early May, we have heard the wren's delightful song for a few 

 days every year. Two years ago a pair of wrens decided to make their nest 

 in a bird-house which we had put up on an old cedar tree a few yards from 

 the house. We were thrilled at the idea of having a family of wrens take 

 up their abode so near us, and we watched them eagerly lining the bird- 

 house, but alas, after a few days, the birds appeared to get dissatisfied with 

 the place and suddenly vanished. I was informed that this is frequently the 

 way with the house wrens. 



This year, however, came a pair of wrens and decided to stay. All 

 day in the early days of May the tiny male bird, perched on a dead twig of 

 the old cedar, poured out his rippling, gushing melody. So small he was 

 his little body seemed to be just one continuous vibration. A few days later 

 the female appeared. They began the nest. On June 6th at the close of a 

 very hot day one of the wrens was hopping about the veranda, in most 

 friendly fashion, searching for worms in the pot of the box tree. I saw 

 what a rich brown color it had on back and wings with a tinge it seemed of 

 violet somewhere. 



June 8th. After two days of absence, on the third morning the wren was 

 seen again sitting on his favorite perch on the dead twig below the bird- 

 house, but he sings no more. 



June 15th. The wrens are still with us. Are they raising another 

 brood in the same nest? 



June 22nd. Still here and feeding young vigorously. When the wren 

 flies it is so small its wings seem to whir and beat the air like the wings of a 

 hummingbird or an insect. 



I left Waltham on the 23rd, and so this story has no ending. When I 

 returned July 7th, the wrens had gone. We never saw the young birds. 



July 19th. I saw a small brown bird fly in and then out of the hole in 

 the bird-house. 



July 24th. This morning I saw the wren flying about in the neighbor 

 hood and heard him make his scolding noise. 



Annie L. Sears, 



Locust Hill, Waltham, Mass. 



WILD LIFE LEAGUE 



Mr. Howard H. Cleaves, formerly curator of the Staten Island Museum, 

 who has sincq been in conservation work on the Pacific Coast, is now the 

 Secretary of the Wild Life League of West Virginia with offices at Clarksburg. 

 The League has an extensive program for the organization of the State for 

 the protection of its forests, fish, game and other natural resources. Mr. 

 Cleaves is an efficient organizer, and the League is expected to do a valuable 

 work for the State under his management. 



