CHAPTER XVII. 



THE CAROLINA WEEN: A YEAR OF ITS LIFE. 



EARLY in the morning of September 1, 1882, as I was 

 passing near the stable, my attention was called to the 

 shrill notes of an excited little bird that, darting from the 

 building, alighted on the fence near by and screamed 

 Jimmee, Jimmee, Jimmee, so loudly, that every James in 

 the township should have hastened thither. ~No response 

 came, and again the call, a clear, penetrating whistle, was 

 repeated. This continued at brief intervals for two or 

 three minutes, and then, as quickly as it came, the bird 

 flew back to the stable, entering through a knot-hole in a 

 weather-board with such rapidity of movement that I 

 could but marvel at its dexterity. 



Half an hour later I saw this same bird again, coming 

 from the stable through the same knot-hole, and this time 

 it sang as loudly, impatiently, and frequently as before, 

 but the notes were different. It said, or seemed to say, 

 tsaii-re-ta, tsau-re-ta, tsaure-ta. Had I not seen the 

 bird I should have recognized it by a peculiarity in its 

 song, which was never wanting, whatever might be the 

 particular notes it uttered. My attention being called to 

 this little bird the Carolina wren (or mocking wren of 

 authors) I determined forthwith to study its habits as 

 opportunity presented, for the little that I found recorded 

 of it is far from satisfactory. 



What might be the attraction in the stable was my 



