114 NEWS FROM THE BIRDS. 



in the gables of barns is little short of marvel- 

 ous. They do not stop to perch first upon the 

 edge of the hole^ but close their wings and 

 dart throuo;h like an arrow. 



While walking along a stream, have you 

 not often noticed that the bank, especially if it 

 is rather high, is punctured with small holes ? 

 Most likely they are the nests of the bank 

 swallows, or sand martins, hollowed out by the 

 birds themselves to a depth of from two to 

 four feet in the soft, sandy soil, and slightly 

 enlarged at the end for the nest proper — a 

 strange habit for bright, swift- winged denizens 

 of the air. Why should they choose to live in 

 a damp cellar when they might have a pretty 

 cottage on a limb out in the open air and pleas- 

 ant sunshine ? Some birds, like some people, 

 have peculiar tastes. 



If you can get near a barn swallow, notice 

 what a lustrous steel-blue coat he wears. The 

 coat of the cliff swallow is of the same color, 

 but his other markings are different. The 

 upper parts of the white-breasted sw^allow are 

 glossy green, which catches the sun's rays 

 and throws them into a sort of emerald rhap- 

 sody ; but the plumage of the bank swallow 

 and rough -winged swallow is much plainer, 

 being a lusterless gray. 



