WREN. 507 
at its own boldness, down it drops, and you lose sight of it under a 
tangled mass of ferns. If alarmed, the Wren will often seek safety by 
creeping into holes in walls, and sometimes will even bury itself amongst 
dead leaves. It does not appear to like the open, and rarely indeed can be 
driven from its cover, often allowing itself to be chased backwards and for- 
wards until from very exhaustion it may be taken with the hand. 
The Wren is a perennial songster. With the exception of a few weeks 
in early autumn, during the moulting-season, its loud carol may be 
heard at all times of the year. In spring, when all nature is full of life 
and vigour, the Wren’s wild lay is prominent amongst all the bird-songs, 
as it pours from the little creature buried and unseen in the dense growth 
of sprouting ferns, of anemones, and graceful bluebells. In summer he 
warbles at all hours of the day as he hops restlessly through the cover, and 
cheers his sitting mate. In autumn, amidst the showers of falling leaves, 
the Wren’s melody is almost the only bird-music we hear; and in 
winter his song is just as cheerful amongst the icicle-draped roots and 
snow-covered branches of our islands as amongst the ruins of the 
Colosseum at Rome, in the brilliant sunshine of an Italian winter sky. 
The song of the-Wren is remarkably loud for the size of the bird, and is 
composed of a series of jerking notes with a few beautifully sweet modu- 
lations, followed by a rapid trill, the whole abruptly terminated as though 
the bird had been frightened. Its call-notes are a grating fit-it-it, loud, 
and uttered in quick succession, becoming more rapid should it be alarmed. 
The Wren rarely sings from the high branches; and often its pleasing 
strains are commenced as he flits along, to be finished when he has reached 
a perching-place. 
Although the Wren pairs as early as the beginning of March, we rarely 
find its nest until the latter end of April. The Wren is almost universal 
in its choice of breeding-grounds ; for wherever tangled vegetation 
occurs of sufficient density to afford it the required seclusion its nest may 
be looked for. It may be found in the deepest woods, the tangled 
hedgerows and fences, in gardens and plantations, and even on the barren 
moors wherever a thicket or a few bushes overgrown with brambles relieve 
the monotony of the waste. Many of the Wren’s breeding-haunts are 
also similar to those of the Dipper—by the sides of rapid flowing stream- 
lets where vegetation is luxuriant and suitable rock-crevices abound. The 
site for the nest is sometimes far under overhanging banks amongst the 
gnarled roots of trees; at others it is in the ivy growing on trees and 
walls, and is frequently in bushes. Dixon has often known its nest built 
in a drooping yew-branch, and once found it hanging suspended from an 
elder tree over a stream. Another situation in which to look for its nest 
with tolerable certainty is amongst thick brushwood, such as roses and 
brambles, amongst whose trailing branches the withered leaves have been 
