On the wanton Destruction of Swallows. 37 
others scarcely injured, crawling out of the bird’s mouth ; the 
throat and pouch seemed absolutely stuffed with them, aad an 
incredible number was at length disgorged. I am sure I 
speak within compass when I state that there was a mass of 
flies, just caught by this single swift, lar ‘ger than, when pressed 
close, could conveniently be contend | in the bowl of an ordi- 
nary table-spoon! ‘Thus was a whole brood of young birds 
deprived of one of their nursing parents, by an act of the 
most wanton cruelty! In common with the excellent author 
above quoted, I would entreat those who follow the manly 
sports of the field to spare these guiltless creatures, if it were 
only from motives of self-interest. The blackbird and the 
throstle, the blackcap, whitethroat, and a variety of other 
birds, are of service in destroyi ing insects, and they charm us 
with their melody and amusing ee 7 but, in return for all 
this, we are obliged to “ pay the piper.’ As a compensation 
for their song, they take great liberties with our fruit and 
vegetables, and we are content to submit to their committing 
considerable depredations on our gardens ; but the swallows, 
the inoffensive swallows, what mischief do they do? They 
rank among our best friends; ‘0 ¢njury, no meditated crime, 
was ever imputed to these birds ;” they do us good, and, unlike 
many others of the feathered race, good only, good dniwieed 
with evil. During their sojourn Bs this country, they are 
(with the exception of one species, the sand marten) always 
about our dwellings, and appear, as it were, to court our ac- 
quaintance. It has been somewhere observed, I think, by 
White, that “they are har dly to be scared by a gun,” so un- 
suspicious are they of receiving injury from man, oho they 
seem to look upon as their natural protector. ‘The arrival of 
the first swallow is regarded with some degree of interest by 
most people; and, as he skims along with graceful flight, or 
twitters on our chimney tops, is hated even by the waved 
vated plebeian as the constant and uniform attendant on 
spring. The scream of the swifts, when they collect in packs, 
and 
** Dash round the steeple, unsubdued of wing,” 
harsh and discordant as it may be, is yet a most joyous and 
delightful sound, and is associated with all the charms of sum- 
mer days and serene weather. And as to those industrious 
little masons, the martens, I love to have them build in my 
windows; I consider they pay me a compliment by making a 
selection of my premises for the purpose of nidification, and 
would on no account have them injured or disturbed, not- 
withstanding their occasional dirt and litter. If our great poet 
D3 
