92 Twelve Months With 



ings. The long forked tail of the latter makes his 

 identification easy. 



The swallows, by their darting, skimming, easy 

 flight have inspired a number of our poets to 

 express their longing for the power to fly, — as this, 

 from Anna Boynton Averill : 



"Oh, to feel the wild thrill of the swallow, 

 The wonder of the wing, 

 On the soft blue billows of air to follow 

 The summer, and soar to sing. 



To drink blue air and to feel it flowing 

 Through every dainty plume 



Uplifting, pillowing, bearing, blowing, 

 And the earth below In bloom. 



Is it far to heaven, O swallow, swallow? 



The heavy-hearted sings ; 

 I watch thy flight and I long to follow, 



The while I wait for wings." 



and these lines from Charlotte Smith : 



"I wish I did his power possess 



That I might learn, sweet bird, from thee, 

 What our vain systems only guess. 



And know from what wild wilderness 

 Thou camest o'er the sea." 



But to return to Bailey Creek. A little farther 

 up stream I noticed a pair of phoebes sitting on 

 the exposed roots of a tree which hung out over the 

 water. Lying down on the bank, which at this 



