The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1918-02-28
The Wren Family


made their home among the stumps of Pine
Plains. Early in the spring of 1915 big
things happened on these plains, for the
Canadian Government started to build a
camp for an army of soldiers who were to
be under canvas for few weeks.
Mr.. and Mrs. Wren watched the clearing
of the second growth of timber, the cutting
down of the underbrush, the laying of steel,
the pulling out of stumps, the erection and
construction of buildings and roads, and
the incoming Of men. Was it any wonder
they were troubled about their home for the
| summer.
In choosing home, hollow stump
makes the most desirable place, but two
| things have to be considered: first, nearness
| to a wood, in order to secure shelter and
protection for the prospective parents, and
to make easy the finding of insects; second,
nearness to a pile of stumps or brush, this
being the school where the young birds
| learn to fly.
After a good deal of house-hunting Mrs.
Wren spied hollow stump where woods
and brush pile both were quite near. But.
alas! the railway passed within six feet of
that stump, and maybe the little nest would
be disturbed After much chatter it was
decided to take the chances. Some dried
grass, few weeds and warm lining of
feathers made up pretty little nest. Five
white eggs, sparingly speckled with redish
brown, were carefully laid in the nest, and
about the day when Canada was celebrating
her birthday, five hungry little baby wrens
were snugly housed in that stump. AL
though freight cars passed by and cars of
wood were stopped, uploaded, and the
wood piled within foot of the wFens home,
the old birds paid little attention, b4t work.
ed all the harder to get their young big and
strong, so as to get them out of the nest.
As watched Mother Wren come and 60
untiringly throughout the entire day, Scot
tie and (for we were the only two who
knew and watched the little family in that
stump) took heart; and as our work grew
heavy, and we often were tired out, we got
lesson from Mother Wren, who never
grew weary in the. search Of food for her
young.
Daddy Wren is about four inches in
length; in color, bright cinnamon, with
wings a lite paler, and tail heavily barred
with black. He is the shortest and most
stoutly built wren we have; he looks very
pert with his little stubby tail erect over his
back, while Mother Wren is busying herself
feeding the children, Daddy Wren can be
seen and heard upon the corner of nearby
freight-car. as proud and happy as can be
singing lively, ripping melody, with lots
of musical notes to cheer up his mate. He
is just bubbling over with enthusiasm and
ljoy.
One Sunday Mother Wren said: ITO
morrow we shall take the family to the
brush piles" so before Old King Sol was
peeping over the blue hills, five nervous
young birds were having their first lesson
in flying. Before'the day ended their train
ing as aviators was we'll under way. The
next day they could almost make the woods.
When anyone came near they would hide in
the pile of brush, running from side to side.
so that it was almost impossible to make
them leave it. They have long ago reach
ed the woods, and probably by this time are
away to their winter home along the Gulf
of Mexico, where they will choose mates
and return to US next year. 0, what brave
little workers they were We, who have a
life to live, work to do, and an influence
to leave behind US, can learn a lesson from
these birds, who have no soul, yet work on,
cheerfully, heroically and oftimes under try
ing circumstances.
N. B.-This little story was written on
the train between Camp Borden and Hall
fax, and is as nearly true to the character
istlcs of the birds as could be noticed in the
few pleasant months at the camp.-Er.