THE WREN. 
When I was in our rick yard, one day last week, 
I saw a bird fly into a hole in the wall of the cart 
shed. I went up to the spot to see what sort of a 
bird it was, and why it went into that deep hole ; 
but it had got so far down that I only saw its beak 
and eyes. It was a hen bird, for the cock sat on a 
tree near, and just then gave me a song. It was 
a Wren. I then went away and left her. Next 
day, when I came, she was gone, and I saw her 
nest with four pale eggs in it. The cock will sing 
to her and feed her as long as she sits on her eggs. 
The song of the Wren is loud for its size, and it 
will sing, more or less, all the year. It does not go 
