THE SWALLOWS. 



How can I tell the signals and the signs 

 By which one heart another heart divines ? 



WHAT would n't we give to know what it is they 

 are saying! — these two happy birds. I have 

 watched pairs and companies of swallows ever since 

 I was a child, and I cannot yet find any words that 

 tell all that I think it is. 



A year or two ago I watched a swallow family at 

 Baker's Island, a few miles out from the North Shore 

 of Massachusetts Bay, for a whole afternoon, just 

 when the young ones were proving their wings and 

 learning to fly. My piazza faced the bay from the 

 top of a cliff, and, to keep the Island cows from going 

 too near the edge, a single rail fence had been set up. 

 It was from one of these rails that the start was to be 

 made and the lesson given. 



A few yards away myia.mi\y were learning to swim, 

 and I looked from one bit of teaching to the other, 

 like a school inspector. I am sure I do not need to 

 tell which class took the prize of my highest approval. 



The swallow children were so near in size to their 

 parents, that I only knew the teachers by their steady 

 flight. There were three in the class, but I was quite 



