LYRISTS OF A SUBURB. 81 



one's back yard of an evening, and watch the 

 chimney-swifts circling overhead, sometimes at so 

 great a height that they seem like mere specks 

 slipping across the sky. Now they glide with out- 

 stretched wings, apparently without the movement 

 of a feather or a muscle ; and now they propel 

 themselves forward with short, quick strokes. It 

 is not difficult to tell the swifts from the swallows 

 and house-martins when you see them on the 

 wing, for the wing-strokes of the swifts are much 

 shorter and more rapid than those of the other 

 birds. 



The swallows, by the way, are genuine athletes 

 in the air — regular acrobats. Though the move- 

 ment of their wings is rather leisurely, their flight 

 is exceedingly rapid ; and it is thrilling to watch 

 them, especially about a steep cliff, hurling them- 

 selves down from some height with the most reck- 

 less disregard of danger, as if they meant to dash 

 out their brains on the rocks below; and then, 

 just when you think the fatal moment has come, 

 they describe a sharp but graceful curve, and glide 

 away unhurt. Oh, how they wheel, and mount, 

 and plunge, and circle, and poise, " aslant with the 

 hill and a-curve with the vale ! " Several very 

 interesting chapters on swifts and swallows may 



