“Thou hast no sadness in thy song.” It is uttered both whilst the melodist is flashing at lightning speed through the air and at rest on some house-top or tree, and is an exceedingly sweet and exhilarating warble frequently repeated. During dull weather, when swallows fly low, they utter a note like _wet wet_, and their alarm cry has been fittingly written down as _feetafeet-feetafetit_. Inside buildings they also use another, which is a clear, ringing _pink pink_. [Illustration: landscape with river] =THE GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN.= [Illustration: cluster of flowers] The Golden-crested Wren, or Gold-crest, as it is frequently called, has the distinction of being our smallest British bird, measuring only three and a half inches in length. It is a widely distributed resident, and breeds comparatively close to London and other large towns. On the forehead and round the eyes it is whitish, tinged with olive-green. Crown pale orange in front and bright yellow towards the hind part. The feathers are somewhat lengthened, and form a crest bounded on either side by a streak of black. Upper parts olive-green; wings dusky black with two transverse white bars. Tail quills dusky, edged with yellowish-green. Under parts yellowish-grey, inclining to buff on throat, breast, and sides. The female is not so brightly coloured as her mate. The nest is generally, though not always, suspended from the branch of a cedar, spruce, fir, yew, or holly tree at varying heights from the ground. I have seen it in a furze bush, and at an elevation of thirty feet or more from the ground in a fir tree. It breeds in shrubberies, plantations, and spinnies, and makes its nest of green moss, lichens, fine grass, spiders’ webs, and hair beautifully felted together and lined with liberal quantities of down and feathers. The eggs number six or seven, as a rule, and are pale flesh or yellowish-white in ground colour, spotted and blotched with reddish-brown, the markings being most numerous at the larger end. The Gold-crest’s song is like its singer--very small, soft, and sweet. It is difficult to hear, especially towards the end, unless the listener happens to be very close. In the neighbourhood of Birmingham I once had the pleasure of listening to a bird of this species in an evergreen hedge only two or three feet away from me, and was greatly surprised at the sweet melodiousness of its limited notes. [Illustration: GOLDEN-CRESTED WREN AT NEST.] The sound of its call is something like _tsit, tsit_. Vast flocks of this wee species occasionally hazard the perils of a journey from the Continent across the North Sea in order to visit our shores, and at such times alight upon the rigging of fishing smacks to rest, and crowd round lighthouses in incredible numbers. [Illustration: road through forest] [Illustration: colophon] =ANNOUNCEMENTS OF INTEREST TO NATURAL HISTORY PHOTOGRAPHERS.= [Illustration: WOOD WREN AT HOME.]