This is a family of singers, who dress in plain colors. There is not a red or blue stripe, and not a yellow or purple feather, among them.

The family has two branches, or subfamilies as the books call them. The first branch, which gives the name to the family, is made of birds who are really a sort of cave-dwellers,—the wrens.

Wrens are lively little birds, excitable and afraid of nothing. They are in plain browns, barred off with another shade of the same color. They are so near the color of the ground, where they spend most of their time, that they are not easily seen. They have a way of holding their tails up, some of them much more than others, by which one may know a wren wherever he sees it.

The most common one of the family is the House Wren. He is found all over the Eastern States. In the Western States the same bird, except in the shade of his coat, is called the Western House Wren.

The house wren is fond of a snug place for a nest. If a wren box is to be had, he will take that; but if not, he will seek some cozy nook, which he will furnish, mostly with fine twigs, and then wait for his mate to appear.

Sometimes the bird takes queer places to live in. I once found a wren family inside a hollow iron hitching-post in a city street. The birds went in through the hole for the hitching-strap. I wondered how the wrenlings would get out through the long, dark passage. Another nest was made in an oriole's hanging cradle, after the young orioles had flown. It was filled up with sticks to make it suitable for baby wrens. One that I found last summer was in a hole in a gate-post.

The place is usually chosen by the male, who stuffs it full of fine twigs, and then sings and calls for his mate to come. He will sing hour after hour his sweet little song, stopping every few minutes to bring another stick to add to his store.

The wren is a droll fellow about one thing,—he never knows when he has enough furniture for his house. He will bring twigs and stuff them into the box or hole, till he can't get another one in. Sometimes even till his mate can't get in herself. A pair began to build in a shed room, and apparently set out to fill the whole room with twigs. They brought in so much stuff that the owner had to stop up the hole they used for a door and make them go somewhere else. He was willing to share the room with them, but he couldn't spare the whole.

The house wren is a plucky little fellow, and as he likes the same kind of places the English sparrow wants, they often quarrel over a box or a nice snug hole. Small as he is, the wren often succeeds in keeping the place he wants, and driving the sparrow away.

English sparrows can be kept out of wren houses by making the opening too small for the bigger bird. An auger hole one inch in diameter will be large enough for wrens, but too small for sparrows. A sparrow has sometimes been seen trying to get into one of these wren boxes, and very droll he looks, when he sticks his head in, and struggles and kicks violently to push himself in.

I found a pair of house wrens in Colorado one summer. The singer spent most of his time scrambling about a pile of brush, apparently trying to make me think that was where he lived. But I was sure he had a mate and a nest somewhere else, and I kept watch for them.

One day I happened to see a little brown bird fly up under the eaves of a summer cottage not much bigger than a tent. On looking closely, I found that there were openings under the eaves. The birds had taken one of these for a door, and built a nest inside, in the box frame over a window. After that I looked at them through another window. Everything went well till the wrenlings left the nest and began to fly around. Then they seemed to lose their wits, or not to mind their parents. They flew wildly about in the cottage, bumping against the glass, and seeming not able to find the door to get out.

I had not the key to open the big door, so I could not help them in their trouble. And the old birds were so frantic when I looked in at the window, while they were trying to get their family out, that I went away and left them. In an hour or two I went back, and found everything quiet, and the wren babies all out on the trees.