iftaweleNO des 2An Ua UB O oN SO Cur Bley 15 
and a night journey away, while the Winter Wren and Carolina 
argue by his presence that heaven is right in central Illinois. 
Those acquainted with the warblings of his smaller cousins 
are surprised at the full toned whistle of the Carolina Wren. 
There are no bird notes of purer quality. His melodious trios 
may easily be set to the music staff. Three notes—starting with 
high “Do” and rapidly falling to ‘Sol’ and then to lower ‘‘Do,”’ 
exactly duplicate his most common offering. Seldom have I 
heard even in his variations, other than a full true octave of 
eight notes in limit. Observing with such method so fine a rule 
in the laws of music, we must admit that the Carolina Wren is a 
remarkable bird. He is so enthused with his whistling talent that 
our Illinois days are not long enough for his rehearsals. At three 
in the morn before the eastern skies even hint of the approach of 
a new day, this sweet toned whistle rings out in the darkness. 
The great secret of the ages is recognized by Carolina. Life 
is all too short to waste anv of it in idleness and when this 
strenous Wren is not singing for his own delectation he is busily 
attacking the hordes of bugs and worms—inimical agents of the 
Creator’s plan. 
The erratic taste of the Wren family in the choice of nesting 
sites also prevails as characteristic in the Carolina. Any kind of 
cavity in stump, fallen log or box is good enough for him pro- 
viding, of course, that the site is near unto his beloved woodlands. 
The first nest I remember seeing was stowed away upon the 
upper joists of a cabin in the woods. Another was in a fallen 
log while a most interesting home was in a deep cavity in the 
midst of a standing stump. I found this little female ensconced 
at the end of a tunnel in the center of the big stump which meas- 
ured full nine feet in circumference. She felt so secure in this 
retreat that she would not leave when I peered into the entrance. 
She merely eyed me as though used to such proceedings. 
The song of Carolina is variously interpreted. To some ears 
his ejaculations sound like ‘“‘Jupiter-Jupiter-Jupiter.’”’ Some one 
long years ago translated his song into ‘Te-kettle-Te-kettle- 
Te-kettle’’ and to my mind this version is about as nearly Angli- 
cized as possible. 
Food to his liking is plentiful, so Carolina follows literally the 
scriptural injunction to increase and multiply. He begins the 
ardous task of rearing families early in March and by the time 
the third family of six or seven youngsters appears in July, his 
particular part of the woodland might well resemble a Brigham 
Young estate when school was out. Dwellers near a small pate) ~ 
of woods and particularly when near a small running stream 
mav be assured of a pair of these tenants if a can or small box or 
empty jug is wisely placed. Save that little patch of grove you 
had almost decided to raze and turn over to corn rows. Dollars 
are not the only needful blessings in this modern practical day. 
| ISAAC E. HESS 
