WAYS OF NATURE 



for the night in a large chimney-stack in a city near 

 me, for more than a month and a half. Several times 

 I went to town to witness the spectacle, and a spec 

 tacle it was : ten thousand of them, I should think, 

 filling the air above a whole square like a whirling 

 swarm of huge black bees, but saluting the ear with 

 a multitudinous chippering, instead of a humming. 

 People gathered upon the sidewalks to see them. It 

 was a rare circus performance, free to all. After a 

 great many feints and playful approaches, the whirl 

 ing ring of birds would suddenly grow denser above 

 the chimney ; then a stream of them, as if drawn 

 down by some power of suction, would pour into the 

 opening. For only a few seconds would this down 

 ward rush continue; then, as if the spirit of frolic 

 had again got the upper hand of them, the ring 

 would rise, and the chippering and circling go on. 

 In a minute or two the same manoeuvre would be 

 repeated, the chimney, as it were, taking its swal 

 lows at intervals to prevent choking. It usually took 

 a half-hour or more for the birds all to disappear 

 down its capacious throat. There was always an air 

 of timidity and irresolution about their approach 

 to the chimney, just as there always is about their 

 approach to the dead tree-top from which they 

 procure their twigs for nest-building. Often did I 

 see birds hesitate above the opening and then pass 

 on, apparently as though they had not struck it at 

 just the right angle. On one occasion a solitary bird 

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