"What is it?" cried he, very nearly out of breath from his late exertions. "Has that rascally Mr. Jay----" "No, no!" she interrupted, wringing her sharp little toes, "It's not Mr. Jay this time, Mr. Wren. It's the family over there, _our_ family, robbing our nest of its one little egg." "Pooh! nonsense!" coolly said Mr. Wren, taking one long breath of relief. "Why, my dear, you nearly frighten me to death. You know, or _ought_ to know by this time, that our landlord's family have been taught not to do such things. Besides you yourself admit them to be exceptionally good children and good children never rob nests. Fie, I'm ashamed of you. Really my heart flew to my bill when I heard your call of distress." Mrs. Wren, whose fears were quite allayed by this time, looked at her mate scornfully. "Oh!" said she, with fine sarcasm, "your heart flew into your bill did it? Well, let me say, Mr. Wren, that if it had been my mother in distress, father at the first note of warning, would have flown to her assistance with his heart in his _claws_. He kept them well sharpened for just such occasions, and woe to any enemy _he_ found prowling about his premises." "Oh, indeed!" said Mr. Wren, "I presume he would have attacked Bridget over there, and the whole family. To hear you talk, Mrs. Wren, one would think your father was a whole host in himself." "And so he was," said she, loftily, "I have seen him attack a _Bluebird_ and a _Martin_ at the same time and put them both to flight. An _Owl_ had no terrors for him, and as for squirrels, why----" Mrs. Wren raised her wings and shrugged her shoulders in a very Frenchy and wholly contemptuous manner. "I'm a peace-loving sort of a fellow, that you know, Mrs. Wren, deploring the reputation our tribe has so justly earned for fighting, and scolding, and jeering at everything and everybody. Indeed they go so far as to say we trust no one, not even our kindred. But mark me, Mrs. Wren, mark me, I say! Should any rascally Jay, neighbor or not, ever dare approach that tin pot over yonder, or ever alight on the roof of the porch, I'll, I'll----" Mr. Wren fairly snorted in his anger, and standing on one foot, doubled up the toes of the other and struck it defiantly at the imaginary foe. "Oh, I dare say!" tauntingly said Mrs. Wren, "you are the sort of fellow that I heard little Dorothy reading about the other day. You would fight and run away, Mr. Wren, that you might live to fight another day." Mr. Wren lifted one foot and scratched himself meditatively behind the ear. "Good, _very_ good, indeed, my dear! It must have been a pretty wise chap that wrote that." And Mr. Wren, who seemed to find the idea very amusing, laughed until the tears stood in his eyes. Mrs. Wren smoothed her ruffled feathers and smiled too.