UP THE CHIMNEY. 257 



lowed by her. After being fed, the young 

 dropped back limp or satisfied into the nest, 

 and were promptly sat upon and hustled into 

 a comfortable and orderly condition. Appar- 

 ently both birds joined in feeding their offspring, 

 for I saw first one and then the other go through 

 this peculiar process. 



Supposing that I should have ample opportu- 

 nity for several days to watch the feeding, I did 

 not devote myself to its study as faithfully as I 

 should have done, had I foreseen the distressing 

 event which was in store for my tenants. On Sat- 

 urday afternoon a light rain fell. The faithful 

 mother sat upon her nest while multitudes of 

 tiny drops floated down the chimney. They did 

 not fall, but seemed to sail unwillingly through 

 the gloom, held aloft by the ascending currents 

 of air. Each globule shone with light, and 

 looked almost as white as a snowflake. As they 

 approached the nest, few seemed to touch it, but 

 curved away from it in some eddy of the air, 

 and settled down into the depths of darkness 

 below. During the rain both birds remained in 

 the chimney most of the time. Sunday, July 

 16th, proved to be an unusually warm day, and, 

 what was perhaps of more moment to the swifts, 

 a very dry day, there seeming to be no moisture 

 left in air or vegetation. About noon, while 

 writing at my table, I heard the familiar boom- 



