XVI. 



THE HOME OF THE SWIFT. 



INASMUCH as this article treats of that most hackneyed 

 subject birds' nests it is only fitting that I should 

 lead off with an apology. I am aware that the architecture 

 of birds is a theme which Yankee editors would apostro- 

 phise as "a bit hoary and bald-headed.'* Nothing but a 

 sense of justice, nothing short of a desire to rescue the 

 subject from the evil plight into which it has fallen, induces 

 me to pen what follows. To attract the attention of poets 

 and moralists is the worst calamity that can befall a scien- 

 tific subject, for it then becomes mutilated for the sake of 

 art, and distorted to suit the ends of the teacher of morals. 

 Just as the most beautiful tune becomes debased by falling 

 into the hands of the organ-grinder, so has that most interest- 

 ing subject avine architecture become stale and insipid 

 under the treatment of those who delight to descant in ex- 

 travagant language on the wonders of the subject wonder^ 

 that, as often as not, happen to be non-existent. Watch care- 

 fully a pair of swifts at work on their nest and you will be 

 astonished, not at the marvellous intelligence of the birds, 

 but at the many imperfections and limitations of their 

 instinct. 



Considering the intensity of the struggle for existence, it 

 is surprising how often the nest-building instinct of birds is 

 at fault. For example, a pair of swallows build a nest in a 

 place inconvenient to a human being, with the result that 

 the latter sweeps away the offending structure. Instead of 

 profiting by experience and avoiding the dangerous site, the 

 foolish birds will, as likely as not, try to construct a new 

 nest on the ruins of the old, Then, again, the average 



