156 BIRDS THROUGH AN OPERA-GLASS. 



crows flying hurriedly over to the caucus in the 

 next woods, I found the piquant little winter 

 wrens bobbing about among the bushes oblivious 

 to everything but their own particular business. 



I gave one of them a start as I came on him 

 unexpectedly, and so, on catching sight of a sec- 

 ond, kept cautiously quiet. But, if you please, 

 as soon as he got a glimpse of me, the inquisitive 

 brown sprite came hurrying from one raspberry 

 stem to another, with his absurd bit of a square 

 tail over his back, and never once stopped till he 

 got near enough for a good look. There he clung, 

 atilt of a stem, bobbing his plump little body 

 from side to side, half apologetically, but saying 

 quip with an air that assured me he was afraid of 

 no giants, however big ! When I had admired 

 his mottled, dusky vest and his rusty brown coat 

 with its fine dusky barring, and noted the light 

 line over his eye, and the white edging of his 

 wing ; and when he had decided to his satisfac- 

 tion what I was doing there in the woods, he went 

 hopping along, under an arching fern, off to the 

 nearest stump. 



When they are out hunting, their tails standing 

 over their backs, their necks bent forward and 

 their straight bills sticking out ahead, these little 

 wrens have a most determined air! First you 

 see one examining the sides and top of an old 

 stump, running about, dipping down into the hol- 

 low, and then flitting off among the bushes, chat- 



