THE COMMON SWALLOW. 113 



Thus with us, as in that olden time, the swallow never knows 

 a winter. Rendered classical from the many associations 

 which cling to it, from the time of Ovid's Philomela and 

 Progne to the day when Dante, alluding to the fable, wrote of 

 its song as 



" In that hour, 



When near the dawn the swallow her sad lav, 

 Remembering, haply, ancient griefs, renews." 



The story is well known of a thin brass plate having been 

 fixed on a swallow, with the inscription : 



" Prithee, swallow, whither goest thou in winter ?" 

 The bird returned next spring, with the answer subjoined : 

 " To Anthony, of Athens ; why dost thou inquire ?" 

 The swallow generally arrives with us early in April, and 

 about a month after its arrival prepares its nest, which is 

 placed against the rafters, or under the eaves of a barn 

 or out-house. Sometimes the face of rocks or quarries are 

 chosen as a place for incubation. At variance with its habits 

 in our island, in England the swallow builds a nest some 

 short distance down the chimney (whence the name), a place 

 scarcely ever resorted to in Ireland. The nest is rather strong, 

 and is formed of mud or clay, intermingled and strengthened 

 wifli straws, and lined with feathers, the site being usually 

 returned to yearly by the same birds. 



The eggs are four or five in number, in colour reddish 

 white, spotted with purplish red. In some parts of the country 

 there exists a curious prejudice against taking the eggs of 

 this harmless bird, the alleged consequence attending the act 

 being the cows losing their milk ; and hardy is the venture- 

 some urchin who, in defiance of the acknowledged authority, 

 determines to possess himself of a prize attended with such 

 consequences, with the perfection of ingenuity first trying 

 the experiment in some neighbour's barn, in hopes of escaping 

 the supposed punishment. The food of this species consists 

 of gnats, flies, and the various ephemera which in summer 

 fill the air to a great extent, and which, if suffered to exist, 

 would render man miserable, and, finally, the earth uninha- 

 bitable. No wonder, then, is it that man protects and looks 

 with gratitude on his little preserver from the Egyptian 

 plague ; or, in the language of the philosopher, Sir Humphrey 

 Davy, who, speaking of the swallow, says : " He is the con- 

 stant destroyer of insects, the friend of man, and, with the 

 stork and the ibis, may be regarded as a sacred bird." 



It is a lovely sight on a quiet evening to observe a num- 

 i 



