48 BIRD STORIES FKOM BURROUGHS 



wrens scolding and crying at a fearful rate, and 

 on going out saw the bluebirds in possession of 

 the box. The poor wrens were in despair ; they 

 wrung their hands and tore their hair, after the 

 wren fashion, but chiefly did they rattle out their 

 disgust and wrath at the intruders. I have no 

 doubt that, if it could have been interpreted, it 

 would have been proven the rankest and most 

 voluble billingsgate ever uttered. For the wren 

 is saucy, and he has a tongue in his head that 

 can outwag any other tongue known to me. 



The bluebirds said nothing, but the male kept 

 an eye on Mr. Wren, and, when he came too 

 near, gave chase, driving him to cover under the 

 fence, or under a rubbish-heap or other object, 

 where the wren would scold and rattle away, 

 while his pursuer sat on the fence or the pea- 

 brush waiting for him to reappear. 



Days passed, and the usurpers prospered and 

 the outcasts were wretched; but the latter lingered 

 about, watching and abusing their enemies, and 

 hoping, no doubt, that things would take a turn, 

 as they presently did. The outraged wrens were 

 f uUy avenged. The mother bluebird had laid her 

 full complement of eggs and was beginning to 

 set, when one day, as her mate was perched above 

 her on the barn, along came a boy with one of 

 those wicked elastic sLiiigs and cut him down 



