Parhmans Wren 



like that of the song sparrow, runs along in a 

 peculiarly sweet strain, with a line or two of 

 chatter occasionally inserted, ending with a 

 drop in the scale, expressive of "I told you so." 

 When I removed the bark in order to photo- 

 graph the eggs as well as the sitting bird, she 

 hopped nervously around inspecting the 

 changed aspect of her home, crawling repeat- 

 edly behind the slab of bark (which was merely 

 swung to one side ) , as if expecting to find her 

 nest behind it as before. She plainly could 

 not understand what had happened, and when 

 she finally hopped into her now exposed nest, 

 not finding the situation to her liking, she 

 twisted around so vigorously that she shoved 

 four of the six eggs out onto the ground, two 

 of them breaking. None of the set hatched, 

 probably because I had unfortunately exposed 

 them too long to the sun. The female, urged 

 without doubt by her persistent mate, contin- 

 ued to sit, to my knowledge, for more than 



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