_About the Wren and his family._
[Illustration: W]e have given some account of this curious, inquiring,
investigating little hero, in a former volume of our Museum. But there
is a good deal to tell about him yet; and, as I have many letters from
my little readers, expressing their interest in Jack, I propose to go
on and continue his story. I think everybody will be pleased to hear
how he became acquainted with the natural history of birds.
One day Jack was down at the bottom of the garden, when he became
interested in some insects which he saw on the leaves of a hop vine,
which was climbing up a trellis close by. In order to examine the
insects more closely, Jack took off his cap and carelessly hung it on
the top of one of the stakes which supported the trellis.
After examining the insects for a while, Jack became so interested in
the subject that he picked off some leaves of the hop vine, covered
with the little creatures, and carried them to his aunt Piper, to ask
her about them. He forgot his cap, which was left on the stake; nor
could Jack recollect, when he wanted it, where he had left it. He was
obliged to wear his best hat for nearly a week, when, by chance, he
discovered his cap on the stake. He then recollected all about it, and
ran to the trellis to take it down. But what was his surprise to find
it tenanted by a fierce little wren, who flew out of the cap and then
darted at Jack, snapping at him sharply with his tiny beak.
[Illustration (bird)]
Jack was almost frightened at the fierceness of the little bird, but
after a while he reached up his hand and took down the cap. You may
well believe that he was greatly amused to find that the little wren,
with its companion, had begun to build a nest in it. They had already
packed it more than half full of sticks, straws, and dried grass.
At first, Jack was sorry that he had robbed the little birds of their
home; but after a while, he got a little box and made a hole large
enough for the wrens to go in and out, and set it upon the stake where
the cap had been. For two or three days the wrens were very shy, and
would not go near the box. But at last, one of them flew to the
trellis and peered all about to see if there was no danger near. In a
little while, he hitched along towards the box, making a queer noise
all the time. By and by, he ventured to alight upon the box, and
finally he popped his head into the hole. Then he looked all around
again very cautiously, and at last in he went. Pretty soon he came out
again, and stationed himself upon the top of the box, and began to
sing with all his might. If you will excuse me, I will try to put his
song into words:
Hi diddle ho diddle,
Pop diddle dee,――
Here’s the prettiest house
You ever did see.
Come hither, come hither,
My own pretty friend,
Here’s a home for us both,――
Come, come, little wren!
Here’s a hole for our door,
And a room for our nest,
So come my sweet bird,
And we both will be blest.
Hi diddle ho diddle,
Pop diddle dee,――
’Tis the prettiest house
You ever did see!
Thus the little fellow went on singing as if he would split his
throat, and pretty soon his little mate was seen flying along toward
him. She alighted upon the box, and nothing could exceed his apparent
delight. Mr. Wren then popped into the box, and Mrs. Wren popped in
after him.
Jack was an attentive observer of all these proceedings, and he was
greatly delighted to find that the wrens were willing to accept of the
box in exchange for the cap. The next day, they began to build their
nest in the box. It was very pleasant, indeed, to see the little
creatures at work. They would carry up quite large sticks, and were
very handy in getting them into the hole. They began their work by
sunrise, and so industrious were they, that, in four days, the nest
was finished. The lower part consisted of rough sticks and coarse
straws. The upper part was finer, and the nest was lined with fine
grass. In a week, there were four little spotted eggs in the nest. The
female wren was now rather quiet, but the male wren was very watchful
indeed. If he saw the cat coming near the trellis, he would fly at
her, and snap his little beak close to her ears. Puss would sometimes
strike her paws at him, but, in general, she was frightened and ran
away. The little wren was very pugnacious. If a robin or a blue jay
came near, he went at him in the most fearless way, and drove him off.
One day, as Jack was watching him, the little fellow attacked a crow
that was passing by, and, overtaking him, picked at him so sharply as
to make the old fellow cry for quarter in a very loud voice. “Caw,
caw, caw,” said the crow, and Mr. Wren, seeming satisfied, returned to
his box. Perching himself upon the very top of the trellis, he began
to sing a song of triumph, shaking his wings all the time, in great
glee.
The female wren soon began to sit upon the eggs, and nothing could
exceed the watchful care and anxiety of good master Wren. He was
always on hand, if any cat or bird intruded upon his dominions; and
they were sure to pay dearly for their temerity when they did so. He
spent a good deal of his time in singing, in part, I suppose, to amuse
himself, and in part also to amuse his little lady.
Well, after a time, there were four young birds in the nest, and both
Mr. and Mrs. Wren were too busy in feeding their children, to sing or
play. They caught flies, and moths, and spiders, and gave them to
their young ones, and it was amazing to see what a sight of these
insects the little wrens ate, and it was really amusing to see how
serious the old wrens appeared to be about these days.
The little ones grew apace, and in a short time it was thought best
for them to leave the nest. You may well believe that Jack was on the
look-out, to see the little creatures in their first adventure forth
into the world. In the first place, one of the young birds put his
head through the door of the box, and looked all round to see if the
coast was clear. It was amazing to see how cunning the little fellow
was, though not more than a fortnight old. The old wrens were at a
little distance, chattering at a great rate, and seeming to invite the
little fellow to try his wing. At last, he took courage, leaped from
the box, and alighted safely upon a fence at some distance.
Now, how do you think this little bird knew how to fly,――where to
go,――and how to ’light upon the fence? for you must remember that he
had never been out of the box before. I suppose you will tell me that
he was guided by instinct――that strange power given by the Creator;
and you will tell me right. After the first one had departed, the
others came out one by one, and all were successful in their first
flight, except the last. This little fellow, in attempting to light
upon the fence, missed his footing, and fell to the ground. The old
wrens came to him immediately, and there was a prodigious chattering
about what had happened. The little fellow looked very serious for a
time, but at last he made a new effort, flew a little distance, and
reached one of the lower rails of the fence. The old wrens cheered him
with their approbation, put a big spider into his mouth, and he seemed
to be quite happy.
This was a great day among the wren family. Never was there such a
bustle before! The little wrens kept calling out for something to eat;
the old wrens flew first to one and then to another, giving each an
insect with a little good advice, and departing to provide more food.
It would take me a long time to tell all that happened upon this
interesting occasion. Jack was there, and saw it all, and if you ever
meet with him, you had better ask him about it. I can only tell you,
at present, that, from this time, he was very much interested in
birds; not as creatures to be hunted and tormented or killed, but as
creatures that build nests, and have their homes, and rear their young
ones, which they love very much, and whom they treat with the utmost
care and tenderness. He looked upon them as creatures displaying great
ingenuity, many curious habits and wonderful instincts. He, therefore,
found a great deal more pleasure in watching their movements, and
studying their characters, than in throwing stones at them, or
shooting them. I shall tell you about other birds as we proceed in our
story.
Dick Boldhero.