Wrens in a Coffee Pot. 



149 



would not disturb her. The eggs are 

 white, sprinkled with little brown spots, 

 and they seemed to me very cute. 



Now the capers of the little man began 

 to amuse me. Before this, so far as I had 

 known, he had been songless, but now I 

 was frequently called to my door to listen 

 to his singing. He would perch on a 

 branch just above the coffee pot, and pour 

 out strain after strain of most honeyed 

 sweetness, of such melody as no language 

 could give an idea of. He was singing to 

 his love to cheer her in her long and 

 tedious sitting, and that his strains warmed 

 and thrilled her little heart with drops 

 of the sweetest pleasure, permeating 

 every nerve of it, who can doubt? I do 

 not doubt that while she was drinking 

 these in, her little heart was almost burst- 

 ing with nuptial love, and with the convic- 

 tion that her little man was just the dar- 

 lingest love of a fellow in all the world. 

 After thus singing a while he would dart 

 away into the woods. 



Only three or four days after the sitting 

 began I was surprised to see one of them 

 enter the coffee pot with a worm in his bill. 

 I thought it marvelous that their eggs 

 should hatch so soon. I waited until this 

 wren had fiown away, and then went to the 

 nest expecting to see it full of their babies; 

 but instead, there sat the little dame. And 

 this shows that the thoughtful little man 

 was not only making music to cheer her 

 little heart, but was feeding her while she 

 sat, so that she should have no troubles or 

 cares while engaged in that business. I 

 watched him much afterward, and often 

 saw him bearing in his bill some choice bit 

 for her. I dare say whenever he found a 

 particularly choice morsel in the woods he 

 never ate it himself, but immediately hur- 

 ried off, with his heart full of happiness, to 

 bear it to his lady love. He is indeed a 

 model little husband, and she a most true 

 and affectionate little wife. What happi- 

 ness must reiofn in their household! 



And now that their little ones have come, 

 I learn yet another way of this gallant and 

 faithful little fellow. Both now engage in 

 feeding their young; for I judge that the 

 little wife out of her loving heart thinks it 

 would be too hard a task for her little 

 man to feed the whole family without help 

 from her. Therefore she sets to work 

 equally with him, and between the two no 

 doubt the little ones are fed. They 

 usually start from the nest together, but it 

 seldom happens that they return together. 

 When the little man returns first, and has 

 delivered his offerings to the nestlings, he 

 jumps out on a branch and waits for his 

 mate. If she comes not very soon, he grows 

 impatient and calls for her very distinctly. 

 Her name by which he knows her seems to 

 be Titty-tee; for he calls out in a most 

 musical voice as loud as he can: " Titty- 

 titty-tee, ah, Titty-titty-tee! " and he repeats 

 this time after time till Titty-tee comes. 

 That he intends this as a call for her seems 

 certain, for he sings entirely differing notes 

 when she is present. Indeed, this musical 

 little lover has quite a multitude of songs, 

 and they are all exquisitely turned. His 

 mate does not sing, though I often hear 

 her answer him with a peculiar note when 

 he calls. When Titty-tee comes and has 

 presented her gifts to the little ones, they 

 hop about in the tree together a little 

 while, seeming to be greatly happy, and 

 then dart away into the woods for more 

 food. Can any one study the ways of 

 these sweet little creatures without loving 

 them? I judge not. And if he take not 

 care some drops of their sweetness may 

 perchance fall into his own heart, and help 

 to sweeten that, too. I have reason to 

 believe that the marriage of these little 

 birds is not for a season, but for life. 



This is not the little brown wren I was 

 familiar with when a boy in North Carolina. 

 This one has a longer bill, crooked like 

 that of the curlew, and is much on the 

 order of that of the hummingbird. He 



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