THE MISSING TOOTH 87 



nearly as I could make out, and, from the fre- 

 quent squeakings, I knew they were all filled with 

 young. Then one day, when the young were nearly 

 ready to fly, there came a rain that ran wet far 

 down the sooty chimney, loosened the mortar of the 

 nests, and sent them crashing into the fireplace. 



Some of the young birds were killed outright; 

 the others were at my mercy, flung upon me, 

 helpless, wailing infants ! Of course I made it com- 

 fortable for them on the back-log, and let their 

 mothers flutter down unhindered to feed them. Had 

 I understood the trick, I would have hawked for 

 them and helped feed them myself ! 



They made a great thunder in the chimney ; they 

 rattled down into the living-room a little soot ; but 

 nothing further came of it. We were not quaran- 

 tined. On the contrary, we had our reward, accord- 

 ing to promise ; for it was an extremely interesting 

 event to us all. It dispelled some silly qualms, it 

 gave us intimate part in a strange small life, so 

 foreign, yet so closely linked to our own; and it 

 made us pause with wonder that even our empty, 

 sooty chimney could be made use of by Nature to 

 our great benefit. 



I wonder if the nests of the chimney swallows 

 came tumbling down when the birds used to build in 

 caves and hollow trees ? It is a most extraordinary 

 change, this change from the trees to the chimneys, 

 and it does not seem to have been accompanied by 



