204 BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES 



quite such a picture, has still a charm of its own. 

 Nothing can look prettier than these soft, little 

 pinky, feathery things, as they creep, mousily, 

 into their soft little purse of a nest : nothing can 

 look prettier than they do, as they sit inside it, 

 pulling, pushing, ramming, patting, and arranging : 

 finally, nothing can look prettier than they look, as 

 they again creep out of it, and fly away. It is a joy 

 to watch them building, and their perpetual feat of 

 turning in a way which ought to dislocate their tail, 

 without dislocating it, is an ever-recurring miracle. 

 Charming in and about the nest, they are ; charming, 

 too, in the way they approach it. They come up 

 so softly and quietly, creeping from one tree or 

 bush to another, seeming almost to steal through 

 the air. They have a pretty, soft note, too, a low 

 little " chit, chit," which they utter, at intervals, 

 and which often tells you they are there, before 

 you catch sight of them. To hear that soft chittery 

 note, and then to catch a soft pinkiness, with it, are 

 two very pleasant sensations. Another is to see 

 the one bird working in the nest, and to hear the 

 other chittering in the neighbourhood, whilst it waits 

 for it to come out. 



In the absence of both the owners from the nest 

 they were building, I have seen a wren creep very 

 quietly into it, and, after remaining there for a little, 

 creep as quietly out again. He carried nothing 

 away with him, that I could see, so that pillage may 

 not have been his object, though I know not what 

 else it could have been. Perhaps it was simple 

 curiosity, or, again, it may have been but a part of 

 his routine work. Such a nest, with its hole of 



