The Chimney Swift 215 



evening about six o'clock, and for an hour or more fly in a 

 swift circle overhead seeking rest/ 'Why have they chosen 

 this spot?' I asked. 'It has been their haunt for many years/ 

 said the old man. 'I like to think it is because their friend sleeps 

 yonder. Can you see that monument? That is in memory of 

 Audubon. On one side of that cross are the sculptured forms 

 of many birds. Just a block away is the old mansion where 

 'Audubon lived. Every evening in summer the chimney swifts 

 wing their swift way from New Jersey, from Westchester and 

 from Long Island, and swing in that strange circle over the 

 tomb of the naturalist and within sight of the place where he 

 lived and worked. It seems as though it were a ceremony be- 

 fore a shrine/ Overhead the birds still swirled in a swift cir- 

 cle and the darkening graveyard lay silent but for the soft 

 rustling of the leaves. Suddenly one of the swifts widened 

 the circle and a hundred swung out after him. The twittering 

 cries grew fainter and stopped. The first detachment circled 

 toward the chimney of the church of St. Catharine of Genoa 

 and dropped into it one by one. They had not all disappeared 

 when another company swept out of the circle and disap-. 

 peared. Rapidly the host grew less until finally the last of the 

 birds had darted over and fluttered into the chimney. The old 

 man walked slowly away. All was darkness beyond the iron 

 gates, and silence." 



One evening in the autumn of 1900, as I walked home in 

 Delaware Street, I heard a great twittering of birds just as I 

 approached that beautiful edifice, the Jewish Synagogue. I 

 stopped to ascertain what it all meant and discovered that 

 there were hundreds of chimney swifts, flying in a great circle 

 around the tall chimney of the synagogue. I watched them 

 until they had disappeared into the great chimney for the 

 night's rest. The manner of their going into the chimney was 

 much the same as that of those that "circled toward the chim- 

 ney of the Church of St. Catharine of Genoa." The sight was 

 a most beautiful one one that I shall never forget. 



