The House Wren 
35 
begins to carry twigs into the house before he 
finds a mate. The day little Jenny Wren 
appears on the scene, how he does sing! Dash- 
ing off for more twigs, but stopping to sing to 
her every other minute, he helps furnish the 
cottage quickly, but, of course, he overdoes — 
he carries in more twigs and hay and feathers 
than the little house can hold, then pulls half 
of them out again. Jenny gathers too, for she 
is a bustling housewife and arranges matters 
with neatness and despatch. Neither vermin 
nor dirt will she tolerate within her well-kept 
home. Everything she does to suit herself 
pleases her ardent little lover. He applauds 
her with song; he flies about after her with a 
nervous desire to protect ; he seems beside him- 
self with happiness. Let any one pass too near 
his best beloved, and he begins to chatter ex- 
citedly: ChiUchit-chit-chit” as much as to 
say, “Oh, do go away; go quickly! Can’t you 
see how nervous and fidgety you make me? ” 
If you fancy that Jenny Wren, who is 
patiently sitting on the little pinkish chocolate 
spotted eggs in the centre of her feather bed, 
is a demure, angelic creature, you have never 
seen her attack the sparrow, nearly twice her 
size, that dares put his impudent head inside 
her door. Oh, how she flies at him! How she 
chatters and scolds ! What a plucky little shrew 
she is, after all ! Her piercing, chattering, scold- 
