IVY WREN. ORNITHOLOGIST'S TEXT-BOOK. 211 



pass, the necessary consequence was, that the bird 

 was starved to death. When the room was re- 

 opened, I visited the nest, and, on putting my 

 finger into the snug little structure, found the bird 

 sitting. Unwilling to disturb her, I instantly with- 

 drew my hand, but, to my no small surprise, the 

 bird continued sitting. It was now clear that all 

 could not be going on right, and, on extracting 

 the little creature, found that it was in its last 

 sleep. Just at this instant, the male entered at 

 the recently opened door, and flew around me with 

 the most evident signs of concern and distress. 

 The female was in tolerably " good case", but her 

 death was evidently owing to starvation. The 

 young birds, five in number, and very lately hatched, 

 were quite dead. Three eggs, one of which was 

 addled, remained in the nest. The above anec- 

 dote proves how powerfully the organ of Philopro- 

 genitiveness sometimes acts in this tiny creature. 



The other nest, also built amongst faggots, in a 

 hay-loft, was converted by the mice into a store- 

 house for half-chewed corn, beans, peas, bits of 

 apple, cheese, and sundry other delicacies; the 

 eggs, seven in number, having, previous to the 

 " furnishing" of the apartments, been duly de- 

 voured or ejected, and the dome of the nest almost 

 torn off. This is a parallel case to that related in 

 the article " Garden Ouzel (Merula torquataj", 

 of the rats taking possession of the nest of that 

 bird. 



It is one of the disputed questions in Ornithology, 

 whether the Ivy Wren does, or does not, line its 

 nest with feathers. The solution of this "point in 

 dispute" is sufficiently easy, and the only wonder 

 is, how any one could have the smallest doubt as 

 to the true state of the ease. In this, as in many 

 other arguments of a similar nature, both parties 

 are right, as the nest is generally lined with a pro- 



