A Siege. 21 



scattered forays, there is a concerted attack, and a great 

 noise and fluttering. So interested am I, as several 

 of the swallows have disappeared, that I rise to go 

 into the house. I find two of the martins have been 

 thrown down the chimney, and, on my appearance, 

 dash themselves against the windows in what has been 

 for some time a disused kitchen to which the chimney 

 belongs in which the nests are. I catch first one and 

 then the other, and let them free, when they dash 

 right away from the house to the westward. Pretty 

 little things : more than ever, as I handled them, did 

 I realise the perfection of their form for their purpose. 

 In the best sense they are clipper-built, and their 

 wings are wonderful at once for strength and lightness 

 — nerve and muscle are there in their finest quality. 

 When I touched them they gave out a peculiar hissing 

 sound, probably involuntarily. 



On going back to my point of observation the 

 sparrows are in possession, and every now and then 

 one or another comes out and sits on the ledge, like 

 a kind of sentinel, to give quick hint, I suppose, if 

 the erewhile possessors, now the intruders, make any 

 show of returning. What a little parable of wars and 

 sieges I have witnessed there this morning. Now, I 

 can believe almost anything of the sparrows. It is 

 the middle of August. I have paid some attention 

 to their proceedings during the spring and summer. 

 They built under the eaves of stables, outhouses, 

 and elsewhere, in covered situations, in February and 

 March, and reared broods there. Then, in May and 

 June, they betook themselves to the trees, more par- 

 ticularly the lime trees in front of the house, being 

 high, carrying off from the nests in the eaves straws 

 and other light bits of material, and also, when it 



