The Sorrows of a House Martin 29 



though. Yes, you are certainly very happy ; you 

 don't come back to your nest and find it locked 

 up like my tool-house. How you do skim 

 about, like fish swimming in the air ! And how 

 nice and clean you are! though I did see you 

 grubbing in the mud the other day on the road. 

 I say, I should like to be you instead of me, 

 with all sorts of things to worry me." 



At this moment a Martin stopped to rest on 

 a bare twig of the apple-tree which grew close 

 to the house and almost touched it ; and at 

 once fell to ruffling up its feathers, and pecked 

 at them with great energy. 



"What are you doing that for?" asked 

 Gwenny, watching in a lazy way, with her eyes 

 half closed. 



The Martin seemed to take no notice, but 

 clinging to his twig with some difficulty against 

 the rising breeze (for his feet were not much 

 used to perching) he went on diligently searching 

 his feathers with his bill. 



"What are you doing that for?" asked 

 Gwenny again, rousing herself. And recollect- 

 ing her manners, she added, "If you will be 



