TROGLODYTES EUROPiEUS. 507 



It was long a popular belief that the wren was the female 



robin, hence jenny wren and cock robin ; and we all know the 



nursery story of cock robin being found dead in the wood, and 



Jenny lovingly covering his body with leaves, as the two are 



represented to have jointly covered the " babes in the wood." 



Except the kinglets and the creeper, the wren is our smallest 



native bird. In " Macbeth" Shakespeare makes Lady Macduff 



say— 



"The poor wren, 

 The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 

 Her young ones in the neat, against the owl." 



And to show what apt dramatic use he makes of the little wren, 

 when Imogen, in the fine play of " Cymbeline," is sorely tried, 

 she exclaims — 



" I tremble still with fear ; but if there be 

 Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity 

 As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it." 



And in " Twelfth Night," when Maria enters and tells Sir 

 Toby Belch that Mai v olio is rigged out in yellow stockings like 

 a fool, all he says is, " Look where the youngest wren of nine 

 comes,'"' thus identifying the number of young wrens with the 

 generality of human families. It is often found amongst rocks 

 as well as shrubs— at least I often see it amongst the rocks and 

 whins at Kinkell. It attracts attention by its pert hopping 

 out and into every hole it comes across, jerking its body, 

 erecting its tail, and emitting its loud churring noise — seems 

 ever in motion, always happy. Even amongst snow, when 

 other birds are dowie and sad, it will suddenly pop from its 

 hiding-place and often 



" To the bleak winds gives 

 A slender, unexpected strain" — 



a fine allusion to the little " cave seeker," when suddenly 

 emerging from its hiding-place, bursting into a short but loud 

 and cheery song, as if to show the " hermitess still lives." Its 

 usual note is chit, chit. It makes its nest early in April — one 

 of the few domed nests our native birds make — perfect, and 

 large for the size of the bird. I have got it under a bank, 

 amongst ivy, brambles, whins, and on the " maiden-stane" at 

 Kinkell. It builds anywhere, lays from seven to ten whitish 

 eggs, speckled with brown ; but I never get a nest with more 

 than nine. Macgillivray says — " A weaver in Bathgate saw one 

 with seventeen eggs, and that James Bailie, Esq., counted 



