1853. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



567 



particular time of the swallow's migration. In 

 some districts they retire as early, aa the last of 

 July, when it is as equally certain, that some ot 

 these birds are engaged in incubation at this period, 

 for the second time. At the cl^se of the Consti- 

 tutional Convention, on the first day of August 

 last, it was noticed that the swallows' nests over 

 the windows of the State House were occupied by 

 the young of the second broods. The question is 

 sometimes asked, what reason can be given for 

 believing that some swallows migrate south as 

 early as the last of July in some instances, with 

 such an abundant supply of food around them 1 

 But why, it may be asked, should they any longer 

 remain with us, they having accomplished the 

 great object of their visit, the rearing of their 

 young. These juvenile birds having now acquired 

 the use of their wings, the feathers sufficient for 

 their comfort having grown, those yet to appear 

 being only necessary to give them symmetry, or 

 to impart to them beauty. By the development 

 of instinct, furnished them by the €lreat Giver 

 of animal life, and instructions imparted to them, 

 by someway unknown to us, they have acquired a 

 knowledge of the food necessary for them, and 

 skill in the manner of obtaining it. We again re- 

 peat, why should they any longer remain with us, 

 in high health and full feather, with a pleasant 

 journey to the sunny south before them^ Why 

 should they not be anxious to plume tlieir |K)uug 

 and vigorous wings for an early flight ? We have 

 noticed, in this communication, the social habits 

 of swallows, in congregating together in great 

 numbers, in some particular spots, before their 

 final departure for the south, in Autumn. We 

 noticed, some fifteen years since, a large congre- 

 gation of swallows, preparatory to their final mi- 

 gration. The place chosen by them for this pur- 

 pose was an alder swamp, in the middle of a large 

 pasture. Standing by this swamp at sunset, we 

 observed the swallows converging to this point, 

 in immense numbers. After spending sometime 

 in noisy greetings, and aerial gyrations, the 

 shadows of night beginning to fall, their evolutions 

 cease and they approach a more central point, di- 

 rectly over their roosting place, when, at once 

 with their wings elevated over their backs, their 

 tips nearly uniting and forming a beautiful arch, 

 they drop like falling Jeaves in a still autumnal 

 morning, amongst the branches of the alders to rest 

 for the night. Nothing is now seen of them, but 

 a low indistinct twitter from so many throats, 

 marks their presence. Early in the morning they 

 rise, spread themselves over a large district of 

 country, and after spending the day in seeking 

 food, return at nightfall to their roosting place. 

 These large flocks continue together, until broken 

 up by storms, when, in small parties, they take 

 up their flight for the south. This place of resort 

 by the swallows, we again visited on the first of Sep- 

 tember of the present year, and again found them 

 there, but in small numbers. We were there ao-ain 

 on the tenth of September, and they were gone. 

 Much more might be added to what has already 

 been written upon the subject of the swallow's 

 migrations so interesting to many minds, but we 

 must stop here, and omit to notice, at least for 

 the present, the other species of birds, belonging 

 to the swallow tribe. With another season's ob- 

 servations we shall be the better able, and with 

 more certainty correct some errors, particularly 



in the history of the Chimney swallow, which we 

 suspect may at present exist. The history of the 

 insectivorous birds, will be continued in our next 

 communication s. p. f. 



Danversport, Oc^ 23, 1853. 



THE GARDEN, 



There is — naturally enough too — on entering the 

 garden in tlie autumn, a kind of sadness pervading 

 the heart, which makes us look upon it, and up- 

 on life itself, for the moment, with half-desponding 

 spirits. The leaves of the shrubbery and trees have 

 either fallen or hang trembling upon their boughs, 

 and like the setting sun of the Christian, are more 

 bright and beautiful at the moment of their de- 

 parture, than while in the flush of health and vig- 

 or. The flowers that lately bloomed in such gay 

 profusion — the' many-colored dahlias, the purple 

 petuneas, the fragrant gillyflower, and sweet pea, 

 the night-smelling primrose, and many others with 

 their Idvely forms, have yielded to the touch of the 

 frost, drooped, and faded away. Dead leaves strew 

 the walks, the stems that upboro the beautiful 

 flowers are bent and bowed to the ground, while 

 the dry folfege is borne along in eddies by the 

 wind until caught in the corners or arrested by the 

 prostrate stems and held to shelter their respeo- 

 tive roots. The garden seems larger — you can 

 look through the hedges and leafless shrubbery to 

 its utmost limits, and for a moment, wonder what 

 magic has wrought the change. But it is not on- 

 ly the plants that have lost their vitality and the 

 flowers their perfume. The loved spot that was 

 vocal with the songs of summer birds, is voiceless 

 now. They have gone to sunnier climes to gladden 

 other hearts, as well as to find their accustomed 

 food. 



But to those who love the place, there is still 

 pleasure and satisfaction to be found in the garden. 

 The bulbs of the Hyacinth, Gladiolus, Iris, Nar- 

 cissus, Crocus, Tulips, &c., should now be set, in 

 their varieties, and carefully protected by a covering 

 of leaves, hay or straw. Dahlia-bulbs, if not al- 

 ready done, should be carefully taken up, dried in 

 a day's sun, and spread thinly in a moderately 

 damp cellar, where they will keep in perfect condi- 

 tion for planting in the spring. The bulbs of the 

 Tiger-flower may be preserved in the same man- 

 ner, with the exception that they must be kept in 

 sand or saw-dust through the winter. Half hardy 

 plants may also be preserved by carefully tying 

 them up and winding with straw or matting. The 

 climbing roses, wistaria and honey-suckle, winter 

 better for being loosely wrapt in matting ; if they 

 do not need protection from the cold, they do from 

 rude winds which whip them to pieces, and from 

 heavy snows which break them down. 



The tender raspberries must be canted over by 

 the heels and covered lightly with the soil, and 

 the hardy kinds may be cut down to a proper 



