A Wren’s call notes sound something like tit, tit-it, tit-it-it, tit-it-it-it, uttered so quickly as to resemble the winding-up of a clock.
Even in the depths of the very severest winter weather, “Jenny” Wren refuses to be “pauperised” like the Robin, the Blackbird, and the Song Thrush, and disdaining the help of man, hunts all day long for its own support in a spirit of hopeful independence. It does not matter whether it is an old moss-grown stone wall, a stack of loose firewood, or a shrubbery, in and out goes the little nut-brown bird from cold grey morn till glooming eve, examining every crack and cranny for some lurking morsel of insect life.
WREN’S NEST AMONGST
IVY GROWING ON THE TRUNK
OF A TREE.
It is strange how such an innocent and altogether praiseworthy little bird should have come to occupy such an unenviable position in bird folklore. The common names of this species in most European languages assign kingly dignity to it, and it obtained kingship of all the birds by a mean kind of trick. A parliament of birds agreed that the one that could fly highest should be king. The Eagle easily mounted to the greatest height, but when he had reached it a little brown Wren that had cunningly hidden itself on his back fluttered a little higher, and by this piece of deceit gained the much-coveted honour. Whether for this or some other equally supposed evil deed, the poor bird used to be hunted in our country every Christmas Day by boys and men armed with sticks, and its body publicly exhibited the following day whilst money was begged to bury it.
Although the Common Wren is double brooded and rears from four to eight chicks twice each season, the stock never seems to increase much from one year to another. Nobody knows clearly what becomes of all the birds. Of course, natural death must claim a certain number of victims, and I have no doubt that both Owls and rats secure many individuals whilst they are asleep in holes in the thatches of ricks. I have also found several frozen to death during very severe weather in the winter. In order to avoid this last calamity the birds resort to a very ingenious method of roosting. Although they never go in flocks by day, eight or nine members of the species will congregate together in one hole at night, and by a combination of their natural warmth sleep in snug safety.
WREN ABOUT TO ENTER NEST
WITH FOOD FOR CHICKS.
A Wren’s nest is very large for the size of the builder, is oval in shape, has a domed top, and a small entrance-hole in front. The bird is famous for the number of nests it builds and never occupies with either eggs or young. These structures, which are not finished inside by a lining of down or feathers, are supposed to be built by the males, and are called “cocks’” nests. Nobody knows with any degree of certainty why they are built. It has been suggested to roost in during cold winter nights, but careful investigations have convinced me that there is nothing in this theory.
Boys and girls have an idea that if they thrust an inquiring finger ever so deftly into a Wren’s nest the bird is sure to discover the fact and desert. Without wishing for one moment to do poor “Jenny” an ill turn by destroying this wholesome fear and encouraging investigation, the truth must be told. There is really nothing in the theory. If the structure be deserted, in all probability it is a “cock’s” nest, and was never intended to be anything else by its builder.