WINTER WREN. 



58 



seuBuous joy that clomiiiates the song of the fox Bparrow. The 

 wren's trilled roundelay tells of a deeper joy, an ecstacy that fills 

 the heart so full it niUHt free itself in song — the pent heart's safety^ 

 valve. The charm of the song lies partly in its spontaneity — its 

 sudden outburst — but there is an added delight in its clear tones, 

 which are strong and sweet, in its varied and rapid trills, and in 

 the strain of wild plaintiveness that runs through the entire nieU)dy. 

 You are fascinated by it, you never tiro of its repetition, and each 

 time you hear the bird sing your wonder increases how that 

 tiny heart can hold so much of joy, and how that tiny throstle can 

 express the j(jy with such beauty and such power. The wren's stmg 

 is more nearly like that of the canary than like any other song that 

 I have heard, but the canary sufl'ers by the comparison. Yet how 

 few of our people have listened to this native songster or even 

 heard of its brilliant melody. 



