TO PROFESSOR RENNIE.

In your edition of Montagu’s “Ornithological Dictionary,” just published, you say—­speaking of the Wren—­“An anonymous correspondent of Loudon’s ‘Magazine of Natural History,’ &c. &c.;” and you remark, “There can be no doubt of these supposed ’cock-nests’ being nothing more than unfinished structures of paired birds; otherwise, the story would require the support of very strong evidence to render it credible.”

As I am the anonymous correspondent alluded to, I forward you a few observations of facts tending, as I think, to confirm my view of the question.

In the first place, these nests are far too abundant for the birds, which are not plentiful—­at least, in this neighbourhood.  Again, it is at least five to one that any Wren’s nest which is found during the summer without a lining of hair or feathers is ever completed, or has any eggs in it.  This I have verified in a hundred instances, when, having found Wrens’ nests, I have visited them again at intervals, for the purpose of ascertaining whether my opinion of cock-nests was correct.

Farther, in a small wood adjoining my garden, where I was certain there was only one pair of Wrens, I found at least half-a-dozen nests, not one of which was either lined with feathers or ever had eggs in it; although I discovered they were not all deserted, as I found an old bird roosting in one of them.  I was induced to be more particular in my remarks in consequence of my seeing Mr. Jennings’s remarks in the “Magazine of Natural History;” and I searched, as I supposed, every bank, bush, and stump in the wood two or three times before I could find the breeding-nest, which I at last discovered in the twigs of a willow on the bank of the river, in the centre of a bunch of tangled grass, cotton waste, and straws which had been left there by the floods, and which the bird had apparently excavated and in it formed its nest, which was profusely lined with rooks’ feathers.

The fear of being thought tedious prevents my giving other facts which tend, as I think, to prove the correctness of my opinion; however, I will just add that all the persons with whom I have conversed who take an interest in such pursuits, agree with me in opinion in this matter.

The nest I have just spoken of was also a strong proof that Wrens, although they may not always adapt their materials to the locality they have chosen for a nest, frequently do so; and if this is not with the intention of concealing it, but merely because the materials are at hand, it serves the purpose of concealment also, and very effectually.  The one I am speaking of was so exactly like the other lumps of rubbish which had been left by the floods in the same bush, that I did not discover that it was a Wren’s nest until I had pulled it out of the twigs; and if a Wren builds its nest in a haystack—­which it frequently does—­the front of the nest is almost invariably composed of the hay from the stack, which prevents its being seen much more effectually than if the moss of which the body of the nest is composed were visible on the outside.