THE WEEK 
The wren is a capital illustration of what may he effected 
by cheerfulness and industry. Here is little “ Jenny,” the 
smallest almost of the feathered tribe, and clothed in the hu m - 
blest russet, equally well known and infinitely more respected 
than the splendid peacock himself. 
Hot that I mean to assert that cheerfulness and industry 
are the only good qualities possessed by the wren. It has a 
voice wonderfully musical, and, for its size, wonderfully power- 
ful ; and the best of it is, its musical pipes are not frozen up in 
the winter, as are cistern pipes, neither is it affected by drought 
in the hottest summer ; all the year through (with the excep- 
tion of the time necessary for moulting), the stout little songster 
is ever ready to oblige you with a stave. It is by no means 
difficult to understand how the wren came by the appellation 
of “ J enny.” To see it in the aviary among other birds, to 
observe its incessant bustle, its erect tail, and wings so com- 
posed that they might be called “ tucked up,” it is almost 
impossible to conceive anything in feathers more resembling a 
housemaid. 
In order to distinguish the male from the female wren, it 
must be borne in mind, in the first place, that the latter is the 
smaller bird, that her feet are yellow, while those of her mate 
are light-brown, and that although both birds are generally 
russet-coloured, a redder cast pervades the plumage of the hen 
than that of the cock-bird. Besides, the wings and tail of the 
latter are distinctly barred with black. 
