CITIZEI^ BIRD 



CHAPTER I 



OVERTURE BY THE BIRDS 



♦' We would have you to wit, that on eggs though we sit, 

 And are spiked on the spit, and are baked in a pan ; 

 Birds are older by far than your ancestors are, 



And made love and made war, ere the making of man ! " 



{Andrew Lang.) 



A PARTY of Swallows perched on the telegraph wires 

 beside the highway where it j)assed Orchard Farm. 

 They were resting after a breakfast of insects, which 

 they had caught on the wing, after the custom of their 

 family. As it was only the first of May they had 

 plenty of time before nest-building, and so were having 

 a little neighborly chat. 



If you had glanced at these birds carelessly, you 

 might have thought they were all of one kind ; but 

 they were not. The smallest was the Bank Swallow, 

 a sober-hued little fellow, with a short, sharp-pointed 

 tail, his back feathers looking like a dusty brown 

 cloak, fastened in front b}^ a neck-band between his 

 light throat and breast. 



Next to him perched the Barn Swallow, a bit larger, 

 with a tail like an open pair of glistening scissors and 



B 1 



