236 
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
like a diamond, as she anxiously watched the ap- 
proach of any intruder. 
This interesting little songster usually creeps 
about hedges, in the neighbourhood of farm-houses. 
Sometimes it is seen sitting upon a tree or barn, en- 
livening all around by its sweet voice, which is re- 
markably loud for the size of the bird. Like the 
robin, its finest notes are heard in the evening ; and 
in the house is equally loud, clear, and harmonious. 
The wren may be truly considered one of Nature's 
poets ; its language is plain but impressive, and speaks 
to the heart. Like some of our sweetest poets, he 
aims not at loftiness of expression, but is content to 
please by awakening all our better thoughts and 
finer feelings. 
The nest of this little minstrel is equally deserv- 
ing our commendation. Few birds take such pains 
to procure a snug, retired, warm habitation for their 
forthcoming offspring, and well would it be if parents 
of the biped race were equally provident for the 
wants of a family. I have seen a pair of these little 
creatures, for days together, reconnoitring every nook 
about a farm-yard, before they could determine upon 
a situation that appeared to offer every advantage of 
