49O NEW YORK STATE MUSEUM 



and departing in the fall from the 1st to the 3Oth of October. A few 

 individuals remain throughout the winter along the coast and in the lower 

 Hudson valley, and rarely a few brave the winters of western New York, 

 especially in the Montezuma marshes. 



Haunts and habits. The Long-billed marsh wren is practically con- 

 fined to the flooded marshes, delighting in a rank growth of cat-tails, sedges 

 and grasses where the water is from i to 3 feet in depth. In such localities 

 one may rarely wade a distance of 4 to 6 rods without coming upon one 

 of its globular nests securely interwoven with the stems of flags and grasses, 

 composed of the dead leaves of the same woven into a compact structure, 

 with a small circular opening on one side, the interior warmly lined with 

 down from the cat-tail. Usually from 6 to 8 nests must be examined 

 before one containing eggs can be found, for it is evidently a habit of this 

 wren also to build more nests than it occupies for breeding purposes. The 

 eggs are usually laid between the 3Oth of May and the 25th of June, possibly 

 two broods being reared in the southern part of the State. The eggs are 

 from 5 to 9 in number, the darkest colored of all of our wrens' eggs, being 

 thickly mottled with chocolate brown so as to give the egg a nearly uniform 

 old mahogany tint. They average .65 by .49 inches in dimensions, rather 

 broadly ovate in shape. 



One can not be in the favorite haunts of the marsh wren many minutes 

 without hearing its " rippling, bubbling, gurgling song." Doctor Mearns 

 says: " The marsh wrens live in colonies and are as attractive, merry 

 little birds as you would wish to see, scolding hard when their retreats 

 are invaded but singing a busy, happy refrain the moment you pass on. 

 There are few sounds so cheerful and pleasant to hear as the jingling melody 

 produced by a colony of marsh wrens left in quiet (?) possession of their 

 oozy territory after such a disturbance." Frequently the merry songster 

 overflows so with the delight of love and life that he rises on fluttering 

 wings above the tops of the marsh grass and sings in lowly imitation of 

 the soaring Skylark until utterly exhausted he sinks again into the coverts 

 of the rushes. 



