156 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 
crows flying hurriedly over to the caucus in the 
next woods, I found the piquant little winter 
wrens bobbing about among the bushes oblivious 
to everything but their own particular business. 
I gave one of them a start as I came on him 
unexpectedly, and so, on catching sight of a sec- 
ond, kept cautiously quiet. But, if you please, 
as soon as he got a glimpse of me, the inquisitive 
brown sprite came hurrying from one raspberry 
stem to another, with his absurd bit of a square 
tail over his back, and never once stopped till he 
got near enough for a good look. There he clung, 
atilt of a stem, bobbing his plump little body 
from side to side, half apologetically, but saying 
quip with an air that assured me he was afraid of 
no giants, however big! When I had admired 
his mottled, dusky vest and his rusty brown coat 
with its fine dusky barring, and noted the light 
line over his eye, and the white edging of his 
wing; and when he had decided to his satisfac- 
tion what I was doing there in the woods, he went 
hopping along, under an arching fern, off to the 
nearest stump. 
When they are out hunting, their tails standing 
over their backs, their necks bent forward and 
their straight bills sticking out ahead, these little 
wrens have a most determined air! First you 
see one examining the sides and top of an old 
stump, running about, dipping down into the hol- 
low, and then flitting off among the bushes, chat- 
