24 THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY. 



UP THE CHIMNEY. 



BY FEANK BOLLES. 



T~ YINGr flat upon my back on my bedroom floor, with my head 

 -* ^ in the fireplace, pillowed upon, the andirons, and my gaze 

 directed intently up the chimney, I watched, hour by hour, the 

 strange domestic doings of two of my tenants. The fireplace 

 was so arranged, and its opening into the chimney so shaped, that 

 I could see much of that part of the interior of the chimney which 

 rose above me, leading toward the little patch of blue sky far 

 away. The whole of the west wall of the black flue, and a little 

 more than half of both the north and south walls, were visible to 

 me. The surface of these walls was rough, having been daubed 

 with mortar which formed undulations and ridges. The lower 

 faces of these irregularities were soft, dull black, but the parts 

 inclined toward the sky caught the glare of light from above 

 and shone as though ebonized. About eight feet above me, as I 

 lay in the second-story fireplace, something about the size of half 

 a small saucer projected like a tree fungus from the northern 

 wall of the flue. Its edges gleamed like silvery gelatin, and 

 light shone through its fabric in many places. This fabric 

 seemed to be made of dozens of small twigs matted and woven 

 together in semi-saucer form, and held firmly in place by some 

 translucent, gelatinous substance of a yellowish-white color. 

 Masses of the same substance held the shallow nest in its place 

 against the hard, cold wall of brick and mortar. Protruding 

 from the nest were the long and slender wings of a bird, which 

 was sitting snugly upon the structure, with her face turned di- 

 rectly to the bricks. The tapering wings crossed near the body, 

 and their tips spread like a Y, under which a short, stiff, fan- 

 shaped tail extended, for a part of the distance covered by the 

 wings. These stiff tail feathers, kept spread all the time, termi- 

 nated in sharp spines, readily discernible. Occasionally, as I 

 watched, the sitting bird wriggled on her nest, and her wings 

 moved restlessly. 



Suddenly the column of air in the chimney was thrown into 

 vibration, and a dull booming sound resulted. Something dark- 

 ened the opening of the shaft, the interrupted light trembled in a 

 confusing way; I was strongly inclined to get out from under, 

 and found it impossible to avoid closing my eyes. Simultane- 

 ously with these disturbing events, a bird's voice in the chimney 

 produced a series of rapid whistling or peeping notes, so mingled 

 as to render the hearer uncertain as to the number of birds mak- 

 ing them. A second bird had entered the chimney. Seen from 

 outside, he had dropped into it, and, watched by perturbed vision 



