7 6 
PICTURES OF BIRD LIFE. 
a European distribution. This latter characteristic is the case, as it is found in 
Sweden and the Faroe Isles, throughout the British Isles, in Spain, France, 
and Italy, and in Trebizond and Smyrna. Linnaeus states that it builds its nest, 
like a true cave-dweller, “ under the earth,” which is true in the sense that 
it is occasionally found in a bank; but the name of cave-dweller belongs more 
appropriately to the Wren from its love of peering into and searching carefully 
all crevices in timber, the dark sides of ditches, and thick hedge-bottoms above 
them. It frequently examines the bars of windows, and even enters outhouses and 
churches to procure insects which form, if not its sole, at least its staple food, 
and seldom associates either with its own kind or other birds. Its call is a 
brisk “ chip, chip; ” but it indulges in a sweet though a short strain at times, 
in sunny noons, for instance, during autumn, and especially in March, when the 
real work of its life, nest-building and rearing a family, commences. The Wren’s 
plumage is of a beautifully soft texture and mottled brown colour; its wings are 
short, and it does not often commit itself to long flights. Its tail varies in 
length, but is generally short, the feathers being soft and rounded, and highly 
esteemed by trout-fishers for making artificial flies. The whole length of the bird 
is but three inches and three-quarters. 
The most curious part of the Wren’s life-history consists in its nidification. 
It begins to build very early in the year, choosing very varied and at times 
singular spots. The nest is generally begun from the sides, or even the top, and 
occasionally, as with other birds, from the foundation. It is composed of moss, 
fastened together with spiders’ webs, hung with lichen, hay, or withered leaves to 
deceive the passers-by, and pierced with a small entrance. The inside is carefully 
lined with feathers. Wordsworth writes truly in his lines “On a Wren’s Nest”— 
“ Among the dwellings framed by birds 
In field or forest with nice care, 
Is none that with the little Wren’s 
In snugness may compare.” 
The whole poem (“ Works,” ii., p. 52) is well worth reading as a sample of the 
poet’s careful study of nature. Alluding to the protective instincts of the Wren, 
he tells how— 
“ She who planned the mossy lodge, 
Mistrusting her evasive skill, 
Had to a primrose looked for aid 
Her wishes to fulfil. 
