1 6 Birds that come to our 



In their building arrangements, wrens vary indi- 

 vidually. Occasionally one finds a nest which is 

 discovered at first glance, it may be in some crevice 

 of the seamed trunk of an ancient yew, tightly wedged. 

 Another is so completely concealed under the ivy that 

 has clasped a wall or a tree trunk, that only the flight 

 of the little brown wren from her nest, as you happen 

 to brush up against it, betrays its whereabouts. Even 

 then an inexperienced eye would not detect it. There 

 is nothing to attract attention. True, there is a 

 collection of last year's leaves, but no nest. Look 

 again where the leaves are closely gathered. Stoop 

 a bit. Now don't you see that neatly framed entrance, 

 with the threshold of moss so marvellously compacted ? 

 May you feel inside ? Well, if you own a fairly long 

 finger ; only one at a time, mind ! You can't get 

 the eggs out ? No ! and a good job too. Seven you 

 can count ? I daresay so. But come away now, or 

 our dear wrens will desert. In another three weeks 

 the young ones will be fairly sitting on the top of one 

 another, and if you put your finger in then, out they 

 all will flutter, for they will be just ready to fly. 

 They will hide away in the long grass or the bushes, 

 or squeeze themselves into the minutest holes and 

 crannies of the rockery, close by the tree under 

 whose shadow they saw the light. 



Another bird that so brightens our gardens with 



his song is the blackcap. About the second week of 



April you will hear his loud warbling notes. Often 



he will commence sotto voce, to break out into 



forte and fortissimo. Before the leaves have grown, 



