THE SWALLOW 159 



flocks in the square. Tlie \veather was fine and grape 

 gathering and vintage had begun. Merry sunshine was 

 bathing the dew-covered roofs and at both extremities of 

 the street I could perceive the vine-covered slopes ol 

 our hills. From all the streets near by swallows were 

 issuing. They would turn a minute in the sky," then they 

 would perch on the window-sills and cornices of the 

 houses. The supports of the balconies and the friezes 

 were soon covered by a long line of small black heads, 

 nodding softly with low melodious chirping. Now and 

 then, one swallow would leave the line and at a single 

 flight would survey the front of the ranks, as if to make 

 sure that every thing was in order and the troup com- 

 plete. No, not yet. At every instant straoglers were 

 coming up hastily; they were received with impatient 

 cries from the birds of the flock; then, with yet more 

 noise and tumult, they would draw up closer so as to 

 make room for the new-comers. 



After a little while a profound silence began to reign 

 among the flock — an almost solemn silence. The sun 

 was already lower down and sending oblique rays into 

 the street ; the shadow of the hills was lengthening on 

 the town. Suddenly, at a single flight, the troup of 

 swallows took wing and ascended, their wings fluttering 

 and quivering with confusion and agitation. For one 

 second the sky was darkciuMJ by this black battalion 

 hovering above the square; then the swallows, forming 



