70 BIEDS' EGGS 



humming about my ears, the first thing my eye 

 rested upon in the black interior was two long 

 white pearls upon a little shelf of .twigs, the 

 nest of the chimney swallow, or swift, — 

 honey, soot, and birds' eggs closely associated. 

 The bees, though in an unused flue, soon found 

 the gas of anthracite that hovered about the top 

 of the chimney too much for them, and they 

 left. But the swallows are not repelled by 

 smoke. They seem to have entirely abandoned 

 their former nesting-places in hollow trees and 

 stumps and to frequent only chimneys. A 

 tireless bird, never perching, all day upon' the., 

 wing and probably capable of flying one thou- ' 

 sand miles in twenty-four hours; they do not 

 even stop to gather materials for their nests, 

 but snap ofi" the small dry twigs from the tree- 

 tops as they fly by. Confine one of thesfe swal- 

 lows to a room and it will not perch, but after 

 flying till it becomes bewildered and exhausted^, 

 it clings to the side of the wall till it dies. I 

 once found one in my room on returning, after 

 several days' absence, in which life seemed 

 nearly extinct; its feet grasped my finger as I 

 removed it from the wall, but its eyes closed 

 and it seemed about on the point of joining its 

 companion which lay dead upon the floor. 

 Tossing it into the air, however, seemed to 

 awaken its wonderful powers of flight, and 

 away it went straight toward the clouds. On 

 the wing the chimney swallow looks like an 

 athlete stripped for the race. There is the 

 least appearance of quill and plumage of any of 



