MUSICAL MEETINGS 243 



clings against it, and there is a sort of twittering, 

 loving expostulation, before she leaves him in pos- 

 session. This second bird is not nearly so handsome, 

 the back not purple like that of the other, and the 

 white throat is stained and dirty-looking. It is this 

 one that swallowed the mud yesterday, and, I think, 

 does the greater part of the work — the hen, I feel 

 pretty sure. During another visit, the bird applies its 

 bill, very delicately, to the mud-work of the nest — 

 always its edge or parapet — and there is that quick, 

 vibratory motion of the whole head, which I have 

 before mentioned. It appears to me that, during 

 this, mud must be deposited, but in such a thin, 

 small stream, that I can see nothing of it. Sparrows 

 — out on them ! — have taken possession of the first- 

 built of my martins* nests, and the dispossessed birds 

 — if they are, indeed, the same ones — have com- 

 menced another, close beside it. But I must go." 



Gilbert White, in his classic, alludes to the slow 

 rate at which house-martins build, and also gives 

 a reason for it. He says : " About half an inch 

 seems to be a sufficient layer for a day." To me 

 it seems that, at some stage of the construction, they 

 must build even slower than this, and the curious 

 thing is, that, at the proper building-time, and when, 

 to casual observation, the birds seem actively build- 

 ing, they come and come and come again, and yet 

 do nothing, each time. Well, " tempora mutantur^ et 

 nos mutamur in illis^'' but it is pleasant to think that 

 all this was going on in White's days, on the walls 

 of his house, no doubt, as of mine now. When 

 everything else has been swept away, yet in nature 

 we still have some link with past times. These 



