EVE AND PETRO 



pleasant day in June when they started their nest under 

 the roof near the top of the ladder. 



To be sure, they made no use of that ladder, even 

 though they were masons and had their hods of plaster 

 to carry way up near the top of their cliff. No, they 

 needed no firmer ladder than the air, and their long 

 wings were strong enough to climb it with. 



They lost little time in beginning, each coming with 

 his first hod of plaster. How? Balanced on their heads 

 as some people carry burdens? No. On their backs, 

 then? No. In their claws? Oh, no, their feet were far 

 too feeble for bearing loads. Do you remember what 

 Corbie used for a berry-pail when he went out to pick 

 fruit? Why, of course! the hod of the swallow mason 

 is none other than his mouth, and it holds as much as 

 half a thimbleful. 



First, Eve had to mark the place where the curved 

 edge of the nest would be; and how could she mark it 

 without any chalk, and how could she make a curve with- 

 out any compasses? Well, she clung to the straight wall 

 with her little feet, which she kept nearly in one place, 

 and, swinging her body about, hitch by hitch, she struck 

 out her curve with her beak and marked it with little 

 dabs of plaster. Then she and Petro could tell where to 

 build and, taking turns, first one and then the other, 

 they began to lay the wall of their home. 



