252 
THE LANGUAGE OF BIRDS. 
seemed as if he would warble out his very life with 
ecstasy of joy. After remaining about half-a-minute 
in, they both flew off, but returned in a few minutes, 
and instantly began to carry out the eggs, feathers, 
and some of the sticks, supplying the place of the 
two latter with materials of the same sort, and 
ultimately succeeded in raising a brood of seven 
young, all of which escaped in safety/' 
In some parts of Ireland, it is custom.ary, on St. 
Stephen's day, for the children to go about in proces- 
sion, carrying a wren, and chanting a sort of doggerel 
rhyme, the purport of which is, begging a participa- 
tion in the plenteous stores of their more opulent 
neighbours. 
I hope my fair readers will accord a just mead of 
praise to this feathered poet of our own fair land, 
who, if not so richly appareled as his brethren of 
other climes, is not the less worthy our warmest 
regard ; and let us remember, that true worth " needs 
not the foreign aid of ornament, but is (like beauty), 
when unadorned, adorned the most." 
The wren from which my illustrative drawing 
was taken, I received from a friend residing in New 
South Wales. Its plumage, being so much more 
