UTILITY OF THE SWALLOW. 105 



ing charge throughout the winter, but I had ac- 

 complished my object. I had promoted the en- 

 joyment of existence. That was sufficient. By 

 attempting more, and thwarting the demands of 

 instinct, I should probably have terminated that 

 happiness which had been the object of my care 

 and interest/' 



Should the foregoing anecdote chance to be read 

 by any one who has thoughtlessly been in the 

 habit of destroying these useful and interesting 

 birds, it may, I trust, induce him to forego a prac- 

 tice, I have never witnessed without regret. 



There appears to be no portion of the known world 

 in which they are not to be found, in certain seasons 

 of the year, and where their indefatigable exertions 

 keep down too great a preponderance of insects. 

 They build in places where we should little expect 

 to find their nest. While fishing this year in the 

 neighbourhood of Dover, I discovered that a pair 

 of swallows had built under an arch- way of a paper 

 mill, through which the water rushed with great 

 force. The space between the water and the nest 

 could not have been more than two feet, and yet 

 the birds fearlessly conveyed food to their young, 

 and again came forth to seek for more, at moments 

 when the foaming stream appeared to fill up nearly 

 the whole of the archway. 



It is, we presume, generally known, that the 

 swallow tribe, which visit us in the Spring and 

 F 2 



