Home-Life in a Chipiney 



BY MARY F. DAY 



I 



EAR BOONTON, N. J., it was my good fortune last 

 summer to have the exceptional opportunity of watch- 

 ing closely the rearing of a family of Chimney Swifts. 

 The nest was built opposite and slightly above an 

 opening in the chimney designed for the insertion of 

 a stovepipe. The • Opening was about two feet from 

 the floor of a second-story room in the house where I 

 spent the summer. 



When discovered, the nest was only partially com- 

 pleted, so it was necessary to exercise care, lest the 

 birds become alarmed and choose a more secluded spot. To guard 

 against disturbance to them, a black cloth was hung over the opening 

 in such a way that it could be carefully and noiselessly lifted during 

 periods of observation. Although the room was used as a bedcham- 

 ber throughout the summer, the Swifts never seemed to be annoyed by 

 the close proximity of their human neighbors. They were of a trust- 

 ful disposition, and soon became accustomed to being watched. Occa- 

 sionally, when I looked in upon them at the beginning of our acquaint- 

 ance, they would spread their long, beautifully formed wings and lift 

 them gracefully above the back, as if intending to fly, but usually, 

 upon second consideration, would conclude it was unnecessary. 



It was the 21st of May when I first peeped in upon the little 

 bracket against the chimney wall that became the stage for the enact- 

 ment of scenes filled with absorbing interest to me in the weeks that 

 followed. It was not placed in an angle, but against the north side 

 of the flue, beneath a slight projection formed by an accumulation of 

 soot. 



In a week one egg was apparent, but there may have been others, 

 for the little builders had been adding one twig after another to the 

 front edge of the nest, so that it had become impossible to see the 

 bottom. Two more days passed, after which it could be seen that 

 there were at least two eggs, and yet the structure continued to be 

 enlarged. 



June 5 marked the beginning of incubation. In mid-afternoon 

 of this day I saw the sitting bird had flown, and, going out-of-doors 

 to study birds, my attention was attracted to a Swift flying among 

 the branches of the locust trees near by. This was an unusual sight 

 to me, and, recalling that I had read that Swifts never alight in trees, 

 I watched eagerly to see what it might mean. Soon I saw that the 



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