Page:Ornithological biography, or an account of the habits of the birds of the United States of America, vol 2.djvu/450

414 the beam ! Dear things! their old tenement has crumbled and fallen down, or they are unusually late ; but going and returning so often will surely en- able them to accomplish their undertaking. Leaving them for a moment, I see some old birds meeting their young on wing. How cleverly have the little things received the proffered fly ! and now away for more speeds the happy parent. I wish I could count the number now in the barn ; but I cannot unless I ascertain first how many young there are, and then double the quantity of nests to get the number of their parents. I have done so : — there ai'e more than a hundred.

Night now draws near, the sun is beneath the horizon ; the farmer has closed the barn door, the Swallows enter by the air-holes ; there is still enough of light to enable them to find their nests, and now each has a- lighted on the edge, and addresses itself to rest. Here are no bickerings, no quarrels ; all is peace and harmony, and now, the labours of the day ended, how quiet is their repose ! I too may take a nap among the fra- grant hay, and dream of the joys of my distant home.

Day-light approaches from the east. All is calm, pure, and delight- ful. The little birds shoot forth from their retreats, and with songs of joy commence their pleasant labours. What a happy world are they in ! Here a smart fellow roguishly challenges his neighbour in all the pride of his full song, or listens for a while to the gentler notes of his beloved mate, while she sits on her pearly egglets. Others have already resorted to the fields, the meadows, or the river's side ; and there I will folloV^ them. The dew glitters on every leaf and blade, and the bright sun throws his glory over the face of nature, which joyously spreads out all her treasures before him. The husbandman, who is seen advancing to- ward the scene of his labours, observes the flight of the Swallows, and assures himself that there will be a continuance of fair feather. Num- berless insects have already left their place of rest, and, like the birds, are seen in search of food, swiftly moving through the calm and balmy air. She of the forked-tail follows them with gliding niotion, and with un- erring dexterity seizes one and another. She seems hardly to exert her- self on this occasion ; for all her movements, upwards, downwards, or sidewise, are performed with perfect ease, and now she sweeps along like a meteor. How many circuits she makes in the hour is more than I can tell, but numerous indeed they must be, when every one knows that at her ordinary speed she can travel a mile in a minute.

Now, towards the sandy shores of the lake or river, she betakes her-