a “THE CAROLINA WREN. 
the birds, the very first fellow to come is always the Carolina Wren. He had 
been catching spiders about the root of a fallen tree, but like the true Athenian, 
he will hear the new thing at whatever cost. Bustling, tittering, and talking 
excitedly to himself he hurries up. At the first sight oi the stranger he jumps 
as if shot, but he has presence of mind enough to dodge behind a log and take 
chattering counsel of his fears. ‘Then, more cautiously, he emerges and begins 
a systematic search. Now scampering along a log with tail in air like a chip- 
munk, now squatting in sudden alarm, or craning and bubbling apprehen- 
sively, the little feathered ferret turns up first on this side of you, then on that, 
until his curiosity is thoroughly satisfied ;—it is only a man. 
This little brown pixie is the most energetic and tireless creature of the 
woods. He not only manages to mind his own business but everybody else’s 
as well, and if one only knew how to approach him, he would doubtless be 
found a perfect encyclopedia of wood-lore. He chatters with the squirrels, 
explores crannies with mice, climbs trees with the Creepers, and sings with 
the best of them. Altho quite devoted to the brush-heaps and dells of the 
deeper woods, he is also thoroughly at home in the vicinity of man, and often 
patronizes our porches and outbuildings with the freedom of a House Wren. 
It is, however, as a songster that the Great Carolina Wren has endeared 
himself to the hearts of all. Those who are accustomed only to the sputtering 
of the House Wren are taken completely by surprise when they hear the clear, 
rich bugle notes of this maestro. Indeed, for clear enunciation, vivacity, and 
carrying power, they yield the palm to none. No two individuals are ever 
quite alike in their major notes or song, but the following are characteristic 
scngs: Cle-er-hé-hew, cle-er-hé-hew, cle-er-hé-hew, clé-ew; Richelieu, 
Richelieu, Richelieu. One merry wight on the banks of the Muskingum, in- 
quired of the passing canoeists, D’y’ever tee-ter? Je-ver tee-ter? Je-ver tee- 
ter? We confessed that we sometimes did, but felt obliged to decline teeter- 
ing with him upon a nodding sunflower. A Cincinnati bird as gay, shouted, 
Sugar to eat, sugar to eat, sugar to eat, sugar, in a most convincing way; but 
this invitation also was declined. 
On all occasions this nervous little creature appears to be full of a sort 
of compressed air, which escapes from time to time in a series of mild ex- 
plosions, like the lid of a tea-kettle being jarred up and down by steam. When 
the valve is opened a little wider there follows an accelerando rattling call, 
which seems to be modeled after the chirr of the red squirrel; and when the 
throttle is held wide open the rattling notes are telescoped together into an 
emphatic “kurr'r'st,’ which brings one up standing. 
Carolina Wrens are given great credit for secretiveness. Their nests, 
when placed in brush piles or under logs are not always easy to locate, and 
even when they select a cranny in an outbuilding, the visiting parents will 
sometimes exhibit all the caution of spies in approaching their nest. But of- 
