138 BIRD- LAND ECHOES. 



fully and shaded the little minstrel's home. It was a 

 pretty sight. 



The wrens are pugnacious, and at times have hard 

 struggles because of the sparrows' numbers, but they 

 have not fared so ill as the bluebirds. They still re- 

 main with me from April until frost, housed in boxes 

 that no sparrow can enter, and when the wren is at 

 home they dare not approach. As a domestic bird 

 the house-wren is, or, more correctly speaking, was, 

 a close second to the " chippy," and some claim 

 first place for it. At times it appears even tamer, 

 because it is not afraid of cats, and will snap de- 

 fiance in tabby's ears as she sleeps on the sunny 

 side of the garden fence ; and it can do what, pos- 

 sibly, the poor "chippy" cannot, that is, sing. It 

 makes the whole door-yard thrill when it pro- 

 nounces its satisfaction with May mornings. In the 

 good old times the wren made an excellent impres- 

 sion ; people regarded it lovingly and built houses 

 for it, and looked in spring for its coming and saw 

 it depart with regret. All this was outgrown in 

 later years. Novelty became the order of the day, 

 and, with a grand flourish of trumpets and a 

 promise of endless benefits, the English sparrow was 

 imported ! The birds of the country were asked 

 to retire ; they were not fashionable ; they suddenly 

 became poor country cousins that caused the city 

 folk to blush, and accordingly the parks and gar- 

 dens were all besparrowed. Music was banished 

 and chatter substituted, precisely as in many a draw- 

 ing-room we see abundant silliness and little sense. 



