his frontal feathers depressed so as to 

 give him a vicious look, and often with 

 his wings trembling with excitement as 

 he held them slightly loosened at his 

 sides. When he judged himself near 

 enough he would make a little run and 

 try to snap up his victim. This method 

 of stalking, though much used, was the 

 least successful of his hunting expedi- 

 ents, a large majority of the flies es- 

 caping. 



When in a favorable locality he would 

 sometimes keep quiet for a time — that 

 is, relatively quiet — as quiet as a small 

 bird can be expected to remain, ready 

 to seize any impudent flies that came 

 within the reach of his bill, which would 

 snap on them with* a loud sound. He 

 was most skillful at this, making the 

 quickest motions conceivable. Although 

 these snap shots were very successful, 

 the flies rarely came past in sufficient 

 numbers to satisfy him long, and he 

 would soon set out to hunt up his game. 



Then there was the full chase. It 

 was not now a matter of a little dash on 

 foot, but a full flight after a big blue- 

 bottle fly which can dart through the 

 air like a bullet. Back and forth they 

 go with a great rush and much dodg- 

 ing. When caught, these big flies 

 made a large mouthful for the vic- 

 tor. He would light on the floor 

 and proceed to swallow his prey. This 

 usually rtiquired several efforts. Watch- 

 ing him called to mind one's own ex- 

 periences with big gelatine capsules. 

 With the final and successful effort 

 Wrensie's eyes would close with a dis- 

 tressed look as the fly went down his 

 throat. 



Flies were often to be found floating 

 on the surface of the water in a large 

 water pail. This fact did not long es- 

 cape Wrensie's eye, and he made his 

 round to this trap with much regularity. 

 When the pail was well filled with water 

 he could reach the flies with compara- 

 tive ease; but when the water became 

 low this became a most difficult matter. 

 He did not fly down to get them, but 

 would reach down while hanging 

 to the edge of the pail. Often re- 

 peated trials were necessary. It was 

 surprising to see to what a distance he 

 could stretch himself in these efforts. 

 Holding on to the edge always, he would 



swing- himself down, stretch his neck to 

 the utmost, and then, just as he was on 

 the point of falling into the water, with 

 a quick flutter of his wings he would 

 raiee himself to the top again, never re- 

 linquishing his hold on the rim. In 

 this way he would pick up flies at the 

 center of the pail when it was not half 

 filled with water, which, in view of the 

 small size of the bird, was an acrobatic 

 feat. 



Then there was the battue. When he 

 approached a window thickly covered 

 with flies a scene of tl]e wildest excite- 

 ment followed. Wrensie would dash 

 into the melee, afoot or a-wing as it 

 happened, his bill snapping faster than 

 a repeating rifle. The slaughter would 

 be continued until the remaining flies 

 were dispersed, which soon came to 

 pass. 



Even the still hunt was not without 

 interest. No setter ever worked the 

 ground more faithfully. Every nook 

 and corner of the house was examined 

 for moths. Moreover, every article was 

 scrutinized, and, when possible, he 

 looked beneath and within. A pair of 

 working gloves lay upon the floor. 

 Wrensie unhesitatingly went in, disap- 

 pearing entirely and remaining long 

 enough to put his head into every 

 finger — which he may, or may not have 

 done. It interested me much to note 

 that in such explorations his assurance 

 was complete. In this kind of delving 

 I was prepared to see some hesitation 

 in my presence. It seemed to me that 

 when I was standing by him it would 

 be only reasonable caution on his part 

 to remain where he could keep his 

 eyes on me. But he never seemed to 

 watch me; and gave me numerous op- 

 portunities to capture him, as he would 

 disappear in a dish or in some hole, 

 and remain for some time. He never 

 hesitated in this, nor did he seem to 

 scrutinize his surroundings before going 

 out of sight. 



Wrensie was not only persistent and 

 thorough in his search for moths in dark 

 corners, but determined as well. He 

 would crowd himself into openings so 

 narrow that he would have to back out 

 after concluding the search. One day 

 he undertook to pass between two cans 

 on a shelf. He made a strong effort, 



