ON "WRENS" OLD AND NEW.

The tale goes that the birds once had a meeting to decide who was the highest flyer of the feather tribe. They determined to put their prowess to the test. Having pruned themselves for the trial, they set out. Up they flew, the smaller birds gradually dropping out of the flight, until a young eagle, wheeling far above the others birds, appeared to be the champion. A tiny wren, however, had taken the precaution to conceal herself under the wing of the eaglet before the flight commenced. Thus, when the mastery of the air seemed already won, out she popped from her hiding-place, and with many thanks to the eaglet for lifting her so far, soared still higher. The young eagle, with not much wind remaining, now gasped in astonishment, and for sheer want of breath was forced to give up. This left the smart little wren "the king of all birds," by which title she is still known in many parts.

Liverpool Division, which is borne on the books of H.M.S. Eaglet, reminds us of this well-known fable, adding: "May we not say, therefore, that the `Wrens' of to-day, under the wing of the `Eaglet,' may even outstrip the ancient `young' bird in fame, thus living up to their reputation?"

From time immemorial it has been the custom on St. Stephen's Day in many places, notably Essex, Ireland, and the Isle of Man, for men and boys to kill wrens and carry them about on furze-bushes from house to house, singing:¬

 "The Wren, the Wren, the king of the birds, St. Stephen's Day was killed in the furze; Altho' he be little, his family's great, And so, good people, give us a treat."

A legend, probably Norse, surviving in the Isle of Man, tells of a beautiful siren who bewitched men and lured them into the sea. A charm was tried to capture the siren, but she escaped in the form of a wren. Hence wrens are killed in the hope of destroying the siren. The feathers of the bird are plucked and preserved as a preservation from death by shipwreck.

In the Isle of Man the furze bushes are adorned with decorations and dressed out "with much taste." The bush-bearers collect money and present donors with feathers against disaster at sea. The wren is buried solemnly with dirges on the sea-shore.

Once all the birds were very, very cold, and they called for volunteers to fly to the sun and get some fire. At first no one would, but at last the little wren volunteered. He was successful in his quest, but got very burnt and dishevelled; so all the thankful birds gave him each a feather. The owl alone refused, so the other birds would not ever let him roost by the warmth. That is why he now flies outside in the night, and cries "To-whi-i-i-it to-who!" shivering with cold.

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