July 1887.] 



A^D OOLOGIST. 



109 



tered over the surfaiie. At no place does the 

 true ground color appear, while some of the 

 shadings run almost into a purple. 



The fact of having taken this set myself 

 may have unduly prejudiced me in their favor, 

 but to ni}^ eye they are unecpialled in point of 

 beauty by the eggs of any Itaptures 1 have ever 

 seen. 



The Home of the Carolina Wren. 



BY K. 1$. MC I.ALMillLIN, STATKSVILLE, N. C. 



On an unusuallj' bright and sunny day in 

 January five years ago, becoming weary of the 

 house, I shouldered my gun, whistled for my 

 dog, and was soon oft' to the fields, whence the 

 snow wliich had fallen a week prior had al- 

 most disappeared. 



Having liad luck after quail, I (patted the 

 fields and took to the lowlands for the purpose 

 of shooting the "cotton-tail" rabbit. While 

 2)assing up a stream flowing across the place, 

 about three feet high in a clump of ash trees, I 

 observed an old cofiee jiot which had evidently 

 been washed down from the village a mile 

 above, and lodged there during high water. 

 Having a morbid curiosity to take in every- 

 thing, like most enthusiastic lovers of the 

 feathered tribe, I began to scrutinize this 

 \veather-beaten relic. The pot was lying rath- 

 er horizontally, yet there was sufficient slant 

 to turn the top slightl}^ up, with the bottom 

 resting firmly against a tree, while the pot was 

 supported on either side by ti-ees which joined 

 near the ground. The spout was turned down- 

 ward and the lid missing. The snow wliich 

 had fallen into the pot, had melted and been 

 drained ott" through the spout, exposing a bird's 

 nest half filling the inside, which I readily 

 identified as that of the Carolina Wren (TJinj- 

 othorus ludoviciamis), the only species of wren 

 breeding in this locality, and one of our most 

 cheerful songsters. Being familiar with the 

 habits of this bird, 1 took note of it, resolving 

 to visit the spot during the next breeding 

 season. 



On my retui-n in the spring, I found the old 

 nest was being nicely remodeled, and new mate- 

 rial added ; while on a subsequent visit it con- 

 tained four eggs, — the usual number being five, 

 yet the set was complete and incubation begun. 

 I remembered Sanuiel IJogers and " The mar- 

 tin's old hereditary nest," saying and feeling 

 with all my heart "Long may the ruin spare its 

 hallowed guest." 



I rather wanted the nest but was not in spe- 



cial need of the eggs, so I determined to leave 

 this strange home undisturbed, though 1 con- 

 fess somewhat reluctantly at first. This nest 

 was occupied for several consecutive seasons, 

 but the pot has lately been removed. 



The Carolina Wren, a common bird witli us 

 throughout the year, is one of the first to her- 

 ald a break of the winter; selecting the pinna- 

 cle of some out-building or the topmost point 

 of a pile of wood as a favorite perch from 

 which it utters a song exceedingly loud for a 

 bird of its size, and one in which 1 assume the 

 Mockingbird takes delight, as there is none 

 which he imitates with more ficipiencj' or 

 greater accuracy. 



Though this l)ird most freipiently nests al)out 

 olil l)uildings wherever it finds a suitaljle place, 

 it will build almost anywhere; in ivy vines, 

 the crotches of trees, banks of small streams, 

 sheaves of wheat and in a single instance 1 

 have found its nest on the open ground. 



One morning I observed a pair carrying 

 leaves and moss toward the barn, but sup- 

 posing its nest could l)e f<)und at any time I 

 paid little attention to them. On the following 

 day it was not so easily found as 1 had imag- 

 ined, and it was after a diligent search that I 

 found it in the tar bucket which hung in the 

 wagon shed. A week later, becoming curious, 

 I peeped into the bucket, and there — sad mis- 

 hap! — was Mr. Wren down in the pitch and 

 held fast. Yes, he had departed this life some 

 days ago. I was sad, but entertain grave 

 doubts about Mrs. Wren's having nursed much 

 of the "silent sorrow" mentioned by Byron, 

 since she mated with indecent haste, perhai)s 

 taking the philosophic view that her mate 

 was about as dead as he would ever be ; and on 

 the third day after finding him she had repaired 

 to a cavity in an old apple tree but a short dis- 

 tance from that wagon shed and was forming a 

 nest. There was no doubt as to her being the 

 same bird as she had a mass of tar on her head, 

 which subsequently removed all the feathers, 

 leaving her head completely bald. I took some 

 fellow collectors to see her, who decided she had 

 been here for some time. She reared her brood 

 in the old apple tree. 



A pair built annually in a wooden wheel, 

 which was among tlie ruins of an old cotton 

 gin that had been used duiing the days of 

 slavery ; while another pair on the place selected 

 a negro's cupboard as a suitable place for its 

 nest. It built there but once. 



Having observed this bird closely from my 

 infancy I decided long since that it would never 

 be troubled to find a place for its nest. 



