Wrens build in all kinds of situations--amongst ivy growing upon walls and round the trunks of trees, in the thatches and sides of ricks, in holes in walls, in banks amongst rocks, in hedges, amongst the rafters of barns, and even in coils of old rope and disused garments hanging up in sheds. When the nest is built in a mossy bank the outside is generally made of moss; when in the front of a hayrick it is made of straws; and when amongst a few slender twigs sprouting from the place where some large bough has been sawn from the trunk of a tree, of dead leaves. These studied attempts, for such they would seem, at concealment do not, however, always hold good, for I have occasionally found one made of moss in the side of a hayrick. “Jenny” Wren is a very industrious builder. One day I was resting inside an old tumble-down summer-house built into a steep hillside in a Surrey park, when, to my consternation, I saw a big black feather coming straight as a partridge towards me. There was not a breath of wind blowing at the time, and the whole thing struck me as being most uncanny. Presently it stopped in a little bush, and I saw a wee brown wren behind it. The mystery was at once explained. I sat perfectly still, and in a few moments she brought the erstwhile awesome feather into the summer-house, and after considerable difficulty managed to get the awkward piece of furniture through her tiny front door. She brought along another and another with surprising speed, and before many days passed she had laid six white eggs which were spotted with brownish-red. [Illustration: shed in the woods] [Illustration: branch with leaves and berry cluster] =THE GRASSHOPPER WARBLER=. The Grasshopper Warbler is a little brown bird of about the same size and general appearance as the familiar Hedge Sparrow, but with the strangest voice and manners. It arrives in this country about the middle of April, and takes its departure again in September. It does not appear to matter much whether the country where this species breeds be wet or dry, so long as there is plenty of dense cover in which it can hide and skulk about mouse-like and unseen. It is a great lover of old haunts, and in the absence of accidents will return season after season with the utmost regularity to some favourite clump of gorse growing on a sandy common or to an ancient reed-bed in the middle of a water-logged marsh. It is very vigilant, shy, and timid, and the slightest disturbance sends it instantly into hiding amongst the thickest vegetation it can find. Upon his arrival in the spring the male bird commences his queer, shrill song, which sounds something like that of a grasshopper, hence the popular name given to the species.