114 NOT A DWELLER IN CAVES. 



genus Anorthura. Scarcely need we describe this bird, for 

 who does not know the little Jenny Wren, so common in 

 every part of the country, the heroine of the nursery tale in 

 which Cock Eobin figures as hero, almost as beloved and 

 cherished a household bird as he, and far more gentle and 

 deserving of love than that pert and pugnacious fellow who 

 goes flaunting about in his crimson stomacher, fancying him- 

 self a welcome guest everywhere, as indeed he is. Our 

 little friend here, in her dress of light greyish brown, with 

 dusky markings to give variety, just a white streak over 

 each eye, and bands of white spots upon the wing, for 

 relief, is as pretty and modest a creature as one need wish 

 to see, and she has a sweet, soft voice too, although it is 

 somewhat low. Let Mudie describe her more fully : 



The Wren is not literally a 'dweller in caves,' as troglodytes 

 imports, but it is a hideling, both in its nidification and in its 

 habits. In winter it comes near the house, and even when snow 

 lies thick upon the ground it may be seen hopping about under the 

 plants in the garden or the shrubbery. If there is a pile of wood 

 which has lain for some time, and is not snowed over, it may be 

 seen on the top when the sun comes out, or the day is otherwise at 

 the brightest, but it hops under cover the instant that it is ap- 

 proached. The farm-yard is also a favourite place with it in severe 

 weather, and there it will seek its food very confidently among the 

 poultry and domestic animals. If there are mud walls, very 

 thick hedges, or any other deep cover near the house, it makes 

 that its habitation all the year round, and seeks shelter in very 

 severe weather in the same nest in which it has reared its brood. 

 If the weather is more than ordinarily severe, numbers will get into 

 the same shelter, and they are often found chilled to death by the 

 cold, or suffocated by the snow. At those times, and indeed soon 

 after the young are reared, there does not appear to be any society 

 among Wrens. Not that they evince the slightest hostility to each 

 other, but they are quite passive till the heat of the weather puts 

 them in mind of the labours of the season, and very little heat 

 suffices, for even when frost is still seen, if the midday sun gleam 

 out warmly, the Wren will ehaunt his song, and even when the sky is 

 suddenly overcast, he will continue his notes till the snow drives 

 him into some hiding-place. 



Broderip says that 



The common Wren is too often shot by the sportsman, for the 

 sake of the tail feathers; these, when skillfully manipulated, ad- 

 mirably represent the spider of February, March, and April, when 



