LOOKING FOE MAMMA. 67 



course in this crowd it was not possible to tell, 

 but I found a better chance in another favorite 

 spot, an old post that rose out of the water, 

 eight or ten feet from the shore, and so small 

 that it was only comfortable for one, although 

 two could stand on it. The post seldom lacked 

 its occupant, a baby swallow with head up, 

 looking eagerly into the flock above him. This 

 isolated youngling I made my special study. 

 Sometimes on the approach of a grown up bird, 

 he lifted his wings and opened his mouth, peti- 

 tioning for, and plainly expecting food. At 

 other times he paid not the least attention to a 

 swallow passing over him, but sat composed and 

 silent, though watchful, apparently for the right 

 one to come in sight. He was often, though 

 not invariably, fed upon his appeal; but that 

 proves nothing, for it would require the services 

 of a dozen parents to respond to every request 

 of a young bird. It not unf requently happened, 

 too, that one of the flock always flying about 

 over the water came very near the little one on 

 the post as if to offer him a morsel, but sud- 

 denly, when almost upon him, wheeled and left, 

 obviously mistaken. On no such occasion 

 did that knowing youngster show any expecta- 

 tion of attention. Again there would sometimes 

 join him on the post, a second young swallow, 

 and, although crowded, they were quite con- 



