Birds and All Nature, Vol. V, No. 3, March 1899

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Various. Birds and All Nature, Vol. V, No. 3, March 1899

THE TUFTED TITMOUSE

EPITAPH ON THE HARE

A TRANSIENT BOARDER

THE SQUIRREL'S USE OF HIS TAIL

THE NORTHERN PRAIRIE HARE

DESTRUCTION OF BIRD LIFE

WE BELIEVE IT

THE PINEAPPLE

LITTLE BUSYBODIES

THE CHARITY OF BREAD CRUMBS

THE HOODED MERGANSER

THE TRUMPETERS

CLOVES

A VEIN OF HUMOR

TAMING THE SMALLER WILD ANIMALS

THE WOODCHUCK

FLOWERS WITH HORNS AND CLAWS

THE COMMON AMERICAN MOLE

THE OAK

SKIN

THE AZALEA

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WHEN I came down stairs in the morning I found him in possession of the premises. I watched him for a few minutes with much interest. I had not before seen a California wren, and found him very different in appearance and conduct from the eastern wrens with which I was acquainted. "Wrensie" was very self-possessed, and did not appear to resent my intrusion at all. In fact, he seemed disposed to ignore my presence, a fact which led me to judge it best to adopt the same course toward him.

I must explain our situation a little by saying that, as the cottage in which I was living was in a very unfinished condition, the lower floor was not divided by any partitions, the kitchen in the L and the front room forming one large room.

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Flies were often to be found floating on the surface of the water in a large water pail. This fact did not long escape Wrensie's eye, and he made his round to this trap with much regularity. When the pail was well filled with water he could reach the flies with comparative ease; but when the water became low this became a most difficult matter. He did not fly down to get them, but would reach down while hanging to the edge of the pail. Often repeated trials were necessary. It was surprising to see to what a distance he could stretch himself in these efforts. Holding on to the edge always, he would swing himself down, stretch his neck to the utmost, and then, just as he was on the point of falling into the water, with a quick flutter of his wings he would raise himself to the top again, never relinquishing his hold on the rim. In this way he would pick up flies at the center of the pail when it was not half filled with water, which, in view of the small size of the bird, was an acrobatic feat.

Then there was the battue. When he approached a window thickly covered with flies a scene of the wildest excitement followed. Wrensie would dash into the melee, afoot or a-wing as it happened, his bill snapping faster than a repeating rifle. The slaughter would be continued until the remaining flies were dispersed, which soon came to pass.

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