THE WREN. 239 



and endeavours to appear as full of consequence as pos- 

 sible. A brief moment's rest and he is off again, in short 

 feeble flight for a few yards, and then again seeks 

 shelter under the withered leaves, creeping through 

 them more like a mouse than a bird, occasionally burst- 

 ing out into fits of sweetest song. 



The Wren pairs very early in the year, sometimes a 

 union being formed early in March, although the nest is 

 seldom commenced before the latter end of April. The 

 site chosen is varied, and not unfrequently very singular 

 — under the banks of streams, in bushes and brambles, 

 far up the stems of trees, amongst ivy, and in the sides 

 of haystacks, or sometimes hanging pendent from a 

 yew bough. I once found a Wren's nest hanging sus- 

 pended from the drooping bough of an elder tree over a 

 small stream, the nest being swayed to and fro by 

 every breath of air. The size of the nest is large when 

 compared with its little owners. Mimicry is the pro- 

 tective power employed by the Wren for the protection 

 of its nest, and note carefully how well she practises it. 

 The nest, which appears as a large ball of withered 

 leaves, is made in the first place of dr^- leaves and a 

 little moss, and round the hole which admits the parent 

 bird is deftly woven a number of grass stems, to strengthen 

 and firmly bind the materials together. The inside is in 

 the first place lined with a thick bed of moss, and finally 

 with a soft and warm lining of feathers, on which the 

 eggs are laid. I may say that the Wren will forsake 

 her nest when in the course of construction sooner than 

 any other bird I am acquainted with. Disturb her re- 

 peatedly when building, and she leaves it apparently 

 without cause. Insert your fingers in her tenement, and 

 she will almost invariably forsake it for ever. The eggs, 

 as a rule six in number, though sometimes only four. 



