144 Kird - Lore 



With a dive out the window she went after Johnny, — and she got him! — brought 

 him in, not lo investigate, hut, after the manner of her sex, to show him the 

 locilion of llieir home and tell him to get busy! He ap[)roved, of course, 

 and the buihiing began at once. 



If human l)eings had the energy of Wrens, and it was all (hrected, as is a 

 Wren's, towards Iiome-mai^ing, 1 wonder if a League of Nations would be 

 neeessary. 



It tir(Ml me to watth their furious activity. By nigiit, tiie shelf was full of 

 sticks, strings, grasses, feathers large and small from the poultry-yard, — and 

 hair! Their manner of ])rocuring that hair was a wee bit like a nation seeing 

 a line harbor or a stretch of land rich in minerals, saying, "I need that ha,rl)or, 

 or that land," and proceeds to take it whether the owner likes it or no. Jenny 

 grew bold as the day a,d valued and gathered material from the room for this 

 famous nest. Seeing a hair braid on the dresser, she tried to take it to the 

 nesl. It was too heavy. She pulled separate hairs, got her feet tangled, fell 

 oyer the edgo of the dresser in comical confusion, called the best she could 

 from her wrapping for Johnny, who came, but was terrified at the predicament 

 of his mate, and could do nothing but utter loud shrieks while Jenny rolled, 

 tugged, feebly Happed her strong wings until she extricated herself. Then, 

 womanlike, she made a dash at Johnny, hit him a powerful blow, and he fled — 

 but she did not. This man-made thing baflled and angered her, and she was 

 resohite to j)ossess it. Back and forth she jerked it, this way and that, but the 

 hair held fast. She stood on it and pulled, fell oyer, attacked it again and 

 again, and her eyes grew yicious as she remembered how easily she had secured 

 the nice long sorrel and white hairs off fence-rails and thorn bushes. For half 

 an houi- she stubbornly held to her task, and succeeded in breaking off a few 

 ends, leaving the braid on the iloor much the worse for her encounter with it. 



In a few days the small hole in the center of all this rubbish was rounded 

 and padded, and Mrs. Jenny became (|ui(l long enough each morning to lay 

 a small, speckled egg, until seven were there, packed on end so close one could 

 nc^l l)e moved without moving all. Then, the miracle. Her restless, quivering, 

 little body grew motionless with a great mother yearning as she hovered over 

 the chocolate-splotched eggs. This was Johnny's Great Opportunity, and he 

 met it s(|uarely. I'A'ery hour of the day, inside the room, or nearby on a tree, 

 his song could be heard His whil-ly-ycr, tvhil-ty-ycr, was a pathetic inquiry, 

 while the usually far-carrying trill was softened and anxious. There was an 

 elbow in the stovepi|)e in the room (for there were cool days occasionally), 

 and on this he would |)erch and sing. One morning he gave his concert from 

 the same pillow I was using. 



Poets poetize over the de\()tioii of the Cardinal lo his biMuliful mate. The 

 amorous Doves are tlu' apotheosis of Romantic AlTection, but |ohnny Wren 

 is as ardent as either and as constant. Her ner\'ous nature keeps her close lo 

 the nest; his loyal love keeps him close to her. 



