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THE WREN. 



(Troglodytes pdrvulus.) 



THE Wren is certainly the most lively of little birds. 

 With its confiding nature, especially in winter, it 

 approaches close to men, and with lightning speed 

 dashes into the openings and gaps in the wood stack. 

 It is visible only for a moment at a time, and, with its 

 little upright tail, its nodding and see-sawing, its 

 appearing and disappearing, its popping in and out, it 

 disposes even the most morose persons to cheerfulness. 

 It slips through the prickliest bunch of blackthorn like 

 the nimblest mouse, and has scarcely vanished on one 

 side, before it appears on the other, shoots about like an 

 arrow and is quickly lost in the neighbouring hedge. 

 It does not fly far. If it finds itself in difficulties in the 

 open, it slips into a mouse-hole. It feeds on the tiniest, 

 and most hidden insects. It finds the smallest spiders, 

 caterpillars, chrysalises, and grubs, which it wants, with 

 skill and inexhaustible energy. It is found both in 

 summer and winter with us. 



This little bird has also its song, which is louder than 

 might be expected, suggesting somewhat that of the 

 Canary. A listener to whom it is not known, is 

 astonished if he happens to discover the tiny vocalist. 

 It sings always in an open place. Its cry is " Zrr's 

 Zezerr." 



A Lancashire naturalist writes of " the irrepressible 

 vitality of the Wrens which prompts them to fling a 

 song in the face of winter whenever they get a chance." 

 A chiding, chattering song it is; flung out also in 

 advance of the intruding footsteps that disturb the 



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