182 IN THE MIDDLE COUNTRY. 



except in length of tail, looked exactly like 

 them ; many a bird baby starts bravely out in 

 life not half so well prepared for it as this little 

 wren. 



After nearly three hours of waiting, we made 

 up our minds that these young folk must be out 

 some time during the day, unless they had de- 

 cided to take up permanent quarters in that 

 hole in the stump, and what was more to the 

 point, that the weather was too warm to await 

 their very deliberate movements. So we left 

 them, to get off the best way they could without 

 us, or to stay there all their lives, if they so 

 desired. 



The nest, which at first was exceedingly pic- 

 turesque and I had resolved to bring it away, 

 with the stump that held it was now so de- 

 molished that I no longer coveted it. The last 

 and sweetest song of the wren, " Shame-ber-ee ! " 

 rang out joyously as we turned our faces to the 

 north, and bade a long farewell to the Great 

 Carolinians. 



