Notes from Field and Study 



189 



when we gave him bread would leave in 

 disgust. 



One day a heavy thunder-storm came 

 up just as he called to us from the neigh- 

 boring roof, and then, in answer to our 

 whistle, he came straight to the chairs 

 where mother and I were sitting, hopped 

 onto one of the rounds of the chair under 

 her, and sat huddled up there during the 

 entire storm, as if frightened. After it 

 was over, out he came and sang to us his 

 own inimitable song. 



Every night he came at dusk to sing good- 

 night. How we grew to watch 

 for him and love him! One 

 day he brought two tiny baby 

 chipping birds to the porch. 

 It was slow, hard work for 

 him to coax the little midgets 

 onto the porch floor, but 

 finally the two fluffy, 

 speckled little things were in 

 the midst of a pile of crumbs 

 and seeing that they were all 

 safe and busy, off he flew. 

 He brought them every day 

 for a week or more, and then 

 one day he didn't come. 

 How we watched and waited 

 for him for nearly two weeks! 

 We were so lonesome with- 

 out him, and so afraid he 

 had been caught. Each eve- 

 ning we would call him, but 

 no little "cheep" would re- 

 ward us. 



One evening, just at 

 dusk, when we had given 

 up ever seeing him again 

 all startled by a familiar 

 Jumping up, we ran to the porch railing 

 and called, and from out of an old pear 

 tree in the end of the yard came the 

 dear little fellow straight for the porch. 

 He lit on the railing, threw back his head, 

 and oh, how he did sing! For at least 

 fifteen minutes he stayed, holding us 

 entranced by his song, and then, with a 

 goodnight 'cheep,' he was gone, and for 

 the rest of the summer we waited and 

 watched for him in vain. — Mabel Foote 

 WiTUAN, Washington, D. C. 



we were 

 little call. 



Some Wrens' Nests 



The accompanying photographs of 

 House Wrens were taken early in July, 

 1913. I had heard that there were a couple 

 of pairs of Wrens nesting near a certain 

 residence, so, taking my camera, I came 

 there one sunny afternoon. The first 

 nest was in a birdhouse, high up under 

 the eaves of the house, and inaccessible. 



The owners of the place had a tennis- 

 court at one side, and there were back- 

 stops of chicken-wire, upheld by iron 



HOUSE WREN 



pipes, which were fastened together at 

 their upper ends with horizontal pipes 

 connected to the others with the regular 

 connections. In one of the end pipes the 

 second pair of Wrens had made their 

 nest. The entrance was from one side, 

 through the iron connection, and the bird, 

 after entering, dropped down in the verti- 

 cal pipe about ten inches to its nest. 



Now came the photographing of the 

 bird. I borrowed a step-ladder from the 

 owner of the residence and set it up near 

 the entrance to the nest. Upon the steps 

 of this I placed and fastened the legs of 



