The Tale of Rusty Wren

Rusty Wren saw at once that there was no sense in arguing with her. If he wanted any peace, he knew that he might as well forget the old hollow apple tree and the hole in the fence-rail too. He had better forget them and resume his search for a home. So he gave his plump little cinnamon-colored body a shake and held his tail at even a higher angle than usual, just to show people that he was going to be the head of the house—when they should have one. Then with a flirt of his short, round wings he hurried over to Farmer Green’s dooryard—after calling to his wife that he would come back and tell her if he had any luck.