THE CHIMNEY SWIFT. 337 
of-eight or rosette pattern, all without collision or accident. No bird is more 
loth to go to bed, but as the evil hour draws near and conscience pricks the 
tender-hearted, a few approach the chimney top with quivering wing. But 
at sight of the yawning hole they recoil in terror, and rejoin the mad whirl 
above, circling seven times faster for the fright they have had. But some- 
thing really must be done; the music languishes; one and another and another 
braves the depths, and returns no more. Soon there is a general movement and 
whole squads go down. The young bloods spur up the dance with renewed 
fury, but the light is fading and the end is near. When the waltz is over a 
few late comers dive into the hole without loss of time. All is still, at last, 
and darkness broods over the scene. ‘Thus has the bird-man seen them a 
thousand strong. 
Getting up in the morning is more prosaic. At about 4:30 A. M. (ona 
morning late in August) some unquiet spirits who have slept outside, enter the 
chimney and arouse the sleepers. A general exodus soon occurs, but there is 
no repetition of last night’s gaities. In leaving the chimney the birds do not 
hurl themselves upward, as one might expect, but flutter quietly to the top, 
and upon reaching the brim fly straight away or else downward. When 
many are leaving at once this action curiously resembles that of smoke on a 
windy day. 
In nesting the Chimney “Sweeps” seek out the smaller chimneys of 
dwelling houses, and usually only one pair occupies a single shaft. Short 
twigs are seized and snapped off by the bird’s beak in midflight, and these, 
after being rolled about in the copious saliva, are made fast to the bricks, a 
neat and homogeneous bracket being thus formed. ‘This will be sufficient to 
support the half dozen crystal white eggs and the hissing squabs which follow, 
unless a premature fire or a long-continued rain dissolves the glue and tum- 
bles the fabric into the grate. 
Sitting birds, when discovered, oftenest drop below the nest and hide, 
clinging easily with the tiny feet supported by the spiny tail. The male bird 
seldom pays any attention unless there are young, in which case he even 
brushes past the intruder and enters the nest in his eagerness to share the 
hour of danger. ‘The young are rather slow in development and it requires, 
according to Mr. Otto Widmann, two months to rear a family of them. 
Usually only one brood is raised, but a second nesting is undertaken even as 
late as August if the first has proven unsuccessful. 
Of course the Swift did not always place the nest in chimneys. Dr. 
Howard Jones says: “Sometimes it is built in a hollow trunk of a tree, under 
the eaves of a house, or upon a rafter in a barn, but the last two locations are 
very exceptional. Before the days of chimneys the nests were placed almost 
exclusively in hollow trees, and even today there are some birds which cling 
to this ancestral habit. About two miles east of Circleville on Darby Creek, 
