68 RIVERBY 



female would sit concealed amid the branches, chat- 

 tering in a scolding, fretful way, while the male with 

 his eye upon his tormentor would perch on the top- 

 most shoot and sing. Why he sang at such times, 

 whether in triumph and derision, or to keep his 

 courage up and reassure his mate, I could not make 

 out. When his song was suddenly cut short, and 

 I glanced to see him dart down into the spruce, my 

 eye usually caught a twinkle of blue wings hovering 

 near. The wrens finally gave up the fight, and their 

 enemies reared their second brood in peace. 



That the wren should use such coarse, refractory 

 materials, especially since it builds in holes where 

 twigs are so awkward to carry and adjust, is curious 

 enough. All its congeners, the marsh wrens, the 

 Carolina wren, the winter wren, build of soft flexible 

 materials. The nest of the winter wren, and of the 

 English " Jenny Wren/' is mainly of moss, and is a 

 marvel of softness and warmth. 



One day a swarm of honey-bees went into my 

 chimney, and I mounted the stack to see into which 

 flue they had gone. As I craned my neck above the 

 sooty vent, with the bees humming about my ears, 

 the first thing my eye rested upon in the black in- 

 terior was two long white pearls upon a little shelf 

 of twigs, the nest of the chimney swallow, or swift, 

 — honey, soot, and birds' eggs closely associated. 

 The bees, though in an unused flue, soon found the 

 gas of anthracite that hovered about the top of the 

 chimney too much for them, and they left. But the 

 swallows are not repelled by smoke. They seem to 



