38 
BIRD LIFE IN WASHINGTON 
pear, all appetite. Then indeed the par¬ 
ents are busy. 
Besides their jolly songs Western 
House Wren will scold and the mother 
bird Avill make a sort of soothing note to 
her brood. 
SEATTLE WREN 
Robin is sometimes blamed for the 
small cherry crop; Steller Jay gets credit 
for laying unlawful claim to the vegetable 
gardens but every one loves the wrens. 
While I write, from the thicket just out¬ 
side of mv yard floats to me one of little 
Seattle Wren’s sweet songs: “E-e-e-e-e, 
sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet,” he says. He 
paused a moment and now, from the 
thicket, I hear, “Pee, pee pee, hoo, hu hu, 
hu, hu.” This one appears to be his fav¬ 
orite. But he knows many songs—so 
many that it will take us years to learn 
them all. 
I have loved and listened to him for¬ 
mally years and he is still surprising me 
with songs entirely new. 
Sometimes his notes become classic and 
he sings of his joys and his hopes in Lat¬ 
in. “Spero, spero,” he whistles. Again 
he is vain and sings of himself, “U-m-m-m, 
sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, li-e-e, hu, hu, 
hu, hu, hu,” or “Sweeten lie-e, hu, hu, hu, 
hu!” 
Last June, I saw a pair building up¬ 
stairs over my door. One of them 
