Swallows nests Indoors. 87 
dynasties of tutors and masters, its succeeding 
generations of joyous youth, might be gathered from 
these writings on the walls: sketches in burned stick 
or charcoal of extinct monarchs of the desk; rude 
doggerel verses ; curious jingles of Latin and English 
words of which every great school has its specimens ; 
dates of day and month when doubtless some daring 
expedition was carried out; and here and there 
(originally hidden behind furniture, we may suppose) 
bitter words of hatred against the injustice of ruling 
authorities—arbitrary ushers and cruel masters. 
The casements, broken and blown in, have per- 
mitted all the winds of heaven to wreak their will ; and 
the storms sweeping over from the adjacent downs beat 
as they choose upon the floor. Within an upper 
window—now obviously enough a wind-door—two 
swallows’ nests have been built against the wall close 
to the ceiling, and their pleasant twitter greets you as 
you enter; and so does the whistling of the starlings 
on the roof. But without there, below, the ring of the 
bricklayer’s trowel as he chips a brick has already 
given them notice to quit. 
