42 The Birds of Albany County 



dulls the edge of pessimism and gives a new color to existence. 

 It is in May and the early part of June that our diminutive 

 friend is most active, both musically and in domestic affairs. 

 He and his little wife are about the most indefatigable workers 

 I know. 



They arrive in Albany County from the South about the 

 last week of April and, after about two weeks preliminary 

 skirmishing, settle upon a nesting site and begin their labors. 

 The nest is generally placed in a hollow limb or a bird-box, 

 though an old tin can lodged in the crotch of a tree, a space 

 in the walls of a house, or the end of an abandoned stove pipe 

 often serves the purpose very well. It makes little difference 

 to these hustling mites of birdland whether the cavity selected 

 is large or small; in fact, it often appears that they purposely 

 choose an expansive hollow so that they can work off their 

 superfluous energy by carrying in building material. Every 

 square inch of space is literally crammed with twigs, many of 

 which are as heavy as the birds themselves. No housewife 

 with a penchant for spring cleaning ever went at her task with 

 greater vim than do the House Wrens when once they set 

 out to build their home. They work vigorously from dawn 

 until dark with an energy that is a standing rebuke to all those 

 who are inclined to be idle. The female is more retiring in 

 her manner, but the male is always on deck, singing, working — 

 and fighting with every feathered intruder, for the House 

 Wrens are noted for their pugnacity. In such encounters the 

 Bluebird, the Downy Woodpecker, or even the English 

 Sparrow, is no match for the Wrens, who invariably come 

 out triumphant, though often many fierce battles occur before 



