THE LITTLE LOVER. 35 



should pop out of the hole in the tree trunk when 

 I was below to catch them. 



On this day, when the wren came up from the 

 dark nest pocket and found me below, she called 

 back to her little ones in such distress that I felt 

 reproached. By gazing fixedly through my glass 

 into the dark hole I could see the head of a 

 sprightly nestling pop up and turn alertly from 

 side to side as if returning my inspection. The 

 old wren's calls made me think of a human mo- 

 ther who can no longer control her big wayward 

 offspring and has to entreat them to do as she 

 bids. It was as if she said, "Oh, do be good chil- 

 dren, do keep still ; do put your heads back ; you 

 naughty children, you must do as I tell you ! " 



On June 16, six weeks after I had found the 

 birds building, I wrote in my note-book : " I am 

 astonished every morning when I come and find 

 the wrens still here, but perhaps it 's easier feeding 

 them in one spot than it would be chasing around 

 after them in half a dozen different places." 



Se young were chattering inside the nest, 

 all talked at once as children will, but one 

 small voice assumed the tones of the mother; 

 probably the oldest brother speaking with the air 

 of authority featherless children sometimes assume 

 with the weaker members of the family. When a 

 parent came, I saw the big brother's head pop up 

 from behind the wall, — the nest was in a pocket 

 below, — and by the time the old bird got there 



