HIRUNDINID^]. 189 



fields, or the rocky braes of Kinkell, or along the banks of our 

 burns, that pleasure is enhanced by meeting them at every turn. 

 If the day be bright and sunny they will be seen flitting 

 away almost beyond the reach of vision, like good aerial spirits, 

 inviting ours to follow them, or should the weather be dull, 

 and the genial sun hiding his face from us, and we stray forth 

 with spirits depressed, we shall find them skimming near the 

 earth and flitting around us — at one moment rapidly crossing our 

 path, the next coming cheerfully to meet us, for they always 

 fly high or low according to the state of the air most suitable 

 for insect life. If you are fond of trout-fishing, and wander 

 along the flower-spangled banks of the river Eden or Kenly 

 Burn in patient search of your finny prey, they, too, will be 

 with you in search of their's the whole clay long, coursing up 

 and down the stream, bearing you company, ever and anon 

 dipping their pointed wings or tiny bill and snatching a fly as 

 they pass. But besides the fields and the rivers, the meadows 

 and the downs, we find them from morning to night skimming 

 along our very streets — not like Jacques with a sluggish, 

 melancholy air, but with an elegant activity and buoyancy which 

 tend irresistibly and unconsciously to attract and raise our 

 spirits as they fly. Even at her spinning-wheel, Bums makes 

 Jenny say : — 



" The swallow jinkin' round my shiel, 

 Amuse me at my spinning-wheel ;" 



and makes Philly declare that — 



" The little swallow's wanton wing, 

 Though wafting o'er the flowery Spring, 

 Did ne'er to me sic tidings bring, 

 As meeting o' my Willie.' 



They glide through the air with the utmost ease, in con 

 tinuous sweeps, without the unclulatory motion of most other 

 small birds. 



Even Banquo, in his mistaken praise of Macbeth's Castle in 

 Inverness (where King Duncan was murdered), says of the 

 cheerful window swallow : — 



" This guest of Summer, 

 The temple-haunting martlet, does approve 

 By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath 

 Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, 

 Buttress, nor coigne of vantage,* but this bird 

 Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle, 

 Where they most breed and haunt." 



' : Coigne of vantage, a corner suitable. 



