August 



artificial means of exhilaration, with the delight- 

 ful possibilities and monotonous impossibilities 

 of every sleepy old country town, I often found 

 myself on the banks of a winding, elm-shaded 

 river — one of those streamlets whose restful, 

 constant flow is a most alluring invitation to 

 the most intense laziness. A flock of bank 

 swallows visited the spot quite as often as my- 

 self, and from more practical and urgent mo- 

 tives ; and, concluding that they lived in the 

 neighborhood, I one day followed up the stream 

 to a point where the banks rose high and sandy 

 from the water's edge. Here, I thought, if I 

 knew anything of the domiciliary tastes of bank 

 swallows, would be a most eligible site for their 

 residence ; and jumping down to the river's 

 edge, and casting my eye along the steep, sandy 

 wall, I soon discovered a large number of their 

 excavations in the hard, fine sand — clean, round 

 holes, looking at a distance as if a number of 

 cannon-balls had been shot into the bank from 

 the opposite shore. They were just large enough 

 to admit my hand, and so deep that I could in 

 many cases thrust in my arm up to the shoulder, 

 and with my fingers just touch the end, where 

 the excavation became a little larger. As the 

 young had already been hatched and the abodes 



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