scale along to the time of their jolly, tuneless 

 rattle. 



From May to September, is there a happier 

 sight than a flock of chimney-swallows, just be- 

 fore or just after a shower, whizzing about the 

 tops of the corn or coursing over the river, like 

 so many streaks of black lightning, ridding the 

 atmosphere of its overcharge of gnats ! They 

 cut across the rainbow and shoot into the rose- 

 and pearl-washed sky, and drop— into the depths 

 of a soot-clogged chimney ! 



These swallows used to build in caves and in 

 clean, hollow trees ; now they nest only in 

 chimneys. So far have they advanced in civili- 

 zation since the landing of the Pilgrims ! 



Upon the beams in the top of the barn the 

 brown-breasted, fork-tailed barn-swallows have 

 made their mud nests for years. These birds 

 are wholly domesticated. We cannot think of 

 them as wild. And what a place in our affec- 

 tions they have won ! If it is the bluebirds 

 that bring the spring, the barn-swallows fetch 

 ' the summer. They take us back to the farm. 

 We smell the hay, we see the cracks and knot- 

 holes of light cutting through the fragrant 

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