THE PERCHING Brrps. 43 
and again I have been assured that the wrens are 
here all winter, “ only they don’t sing,” being usually 
added. This misconception arises from the fact that 
at about the time the summer bird leaves us the Win- 
ter-wren comes down from Canada and New England, 

House-wren. 
and stays with us until, according to some, the snow- 
birds go home, and it goes with them. This winter- 
wren is a superb singer, but practically mute in the 
Middle States. Occasionally I have heard it warble 
a few rich notes, but as a general thing the bird’s 
presence would only be known by being seen. A\l- 
most like a mouse it creeps about fences, out-build- 
ings, and thick underbrush, uttering a sharp squeak 
at times when startled. A favorite winter haunt, ac- 
cording to my own observations, is about springs 
where they are surrounded by dense sapling growths 
and windrows of dead leaves. Among the latter it 
will worm its way industriously, often overturning a 
broad leaf of an oak to catch at any minute spider 
or other form of life that may be lurking there. Oc- 
casionally a severe winter makes them very bold, and 
they enter the out-buildings and there hunt for spiders, 
as does the house-wren in summer. 
