440 BULLETIN 17 9, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



about the barnyard in pursuit of the troublesome insects that annoy 

 both man and beast. The peaceful beauty of the rural scene would lose 

 much of its charm without this delightful feature. But such a 

 charming rural scene is not so common as it used to be. The old- 

 fashioned barn, with its wide-open doors, never closed, its lofty hay- 

 mow, and the open sheds where the farm wagons stood are being 

 replaced by modern structures, neatly painted buildings, with tightly 

 closed doors and no open windows through which the birds can enter. 

 Horses are replaced to a large extent by automobiles and tractors; 

 cattle are housed in modern dairy barns; and the open haymow is 

 disappearing. There is no room for the swallow in modern farming. 

 Must it return to its primitive style of nesting or will other means of 

 encouraging it to nest in our farmyards be employed? The birds 

 will stay with us if we supply them with supports for their nests; 

 a two-by-four joist, rough and not planed, nailed to the outside of a 

 building, fiat wide side against the wall, and placed well up under 

 the eaves with about 5 inches of clearance, will accomplish the de- 

 sired results. 



Spring. — From its winter range in South America the barn swal- 

 low evidently migrates to North America over widely separated 

 routes, through the West Indies and the Bahamas to Florida and 

 through Central America and Mexico to more western points. By 

 the former route the vanguard reaches Florida early in April, but 

 the migration continues well into May and a few are seen even in 

 June. Alexander F. Skutch writes to me: "In Central America, 

 the barn swallow occurs chiefly if not solely as a transient, passing 

 southward in great numbers during September, and again migrating 

 toward the north from mid-March until mid-May, with a maximum 

 of abundance during April. In the more settled parts of the country 

 they are frequently seen resting in long rows on the telegraph wires 

 and power lines, often in company with resident or migratory rough- 

 winged swallows, and sometimes with cliff swallows. They seem to 

 migrate by day, for I have sometimes seen great numbers of them fly 

 overhead in loose flocks in a direct, undeviating course, northward in 

 the spring and south or southeast in the autumn." 



The hardy tree swallow often arrives in New England fairly early 

 in March; but the date depends largely on the weather, which is 

 often cold enough to cause a retreat. It comes as a harbinger of 

 spring, but we never forget the old saying that one swallow does 

 not make a summer. But when the more delicate barn swallow ap- 

 pears, a full month or more later, and we see it gracefully skimming 

 low over the fields and ponds or inspecting its former nesting sites, 

 we begin to feel that welcome spring is here, or at least near at hand. 

 Mr. Forbush (1929) writes: 



