1884. | The Carolina Wren; a year of its life. 23 
Again, while the bird has a great variety of notes, I believe I 
have never heard it mingle these various utterances. It may chance 
to whistle jiszmée or tsau-ré-ta or phoé-do, but it never follows one 
with the other. It is in all cases a repetition of the notes it first ut- 
ters. Thus I once recorded its song as uttered during ten minutes. 
Its notes then were phoédo, phoé-do, phoé-do phée ! with a rest of 
some five to ten seconds; then repeated, and this continued without 
any variation until the notes as here given had been uttered sixty- 
four times. As the bird was about commencing the sixty-fifth 
repetition it was frightened and flew off. A half hour later the 
bird took up its position on a hop-vine pole and sang the notes 
represented by the syllables ¢sav-ré-ta forty-seven times, with in- 
tervals of about five seconds between each utterance. 
I find it very generally stated that this wren is a “mocker,” 
imitating many of our common songsters. Evidences of this 
have never come under my notice. Carefully as I have listened 
to this wren for a year, I have never heard a note that I should 
consider as not its own, and not borrowed. It is not safe, how- 
ever, to conclude that it does not mimic other birds, because the 
one I have studied failed to do so. One’s observations must 
cover a wider range of territory, and extend over many years, 
before it is safe to be positive in the matter of the habits of birds. 
Only recently I read a most painful account of the many dangers 
to which birds nesting in the valley of the Hudson river are ex- 
posed. According to the writer but very few broods are success- 
fully reared. Happily, here in the Delaware valley the birds are 
more fortunate, and a failure is the exception, not the rule. So, 
too, it may be with the songs of birds. My Carolina wrens do 
not mimic, but perhaps my neighbor's do. 
At the onset of winter, which in 1882 was late in November, 
the wren seemed unusually active, and sang even more frequently 
than during the sunny days of early autumn, At this time the 
characteristic tyrannical temper of the wren tribe showed itself. 
y wren had preémpted the immediate vicinity of the stable, 
barn and other outbuildings, and woe betide any trespasser, 
snowbirds, sparrows, titmice and even bluejays were promptly 
warned off by the little tyrant. If they questioned his authority 
it was only to their sorrow. So it proved the long winter 
through. No other birds came near to stay. Spider-hunting, 
fighting and singing occupied all its moments, and, I am told, it 
