SWALLOW-TIME. 97 
this sound. While I was thinking in this way a swallow 
alighted on the turf, picked up a small white moth from 
among the short grass, and went off with it. In gloomy 
overcast weather the swallows at the sea-side frequently 
alight on the pebbles of the beach to pick up the insects 
which will not rise and fly. Some beaches and sand- 
.banks are much frequented by insects, and black clouds 
of them sometimes come drifting along, striking the face 
like small hail. 
When swallows fly low, just skimming the ground, it 
is supposed to be a sign of rain. During the frequent 
intervals of heavy, overcast weather which have marked 
this summer, they might have been observed flying low 
for a week together without a spot of rain falling. 
Chilly air drives insects downwards, and, indeed, para- 
lyses a great many of them altogether. It is a fall of 
temperature, and not wet, that makes the swallows chase 
their prey low down. Insects are not much afraid of 
rain if it is warm and soft, so that in the midst of showers, 
if there is sunshine too, you may see the swallows high 
in the atmosphere. It is when they fly low, but just 
missing the grass, that their wonderful powers of flight 
appear. In the air above there are no obstacles, and if 
you shoot an arrow it travels to the end of its journey 
without let or hindrance ; there are no streets there to 
turn corners, no narrow lanes, no trees or hedges. When 
the swallow comes down to the earth his path is no 
longer that of the immortals, his way is as the way of 
men, constantly obstructed, and made a thousandfold 
more difficult by the velocity of his passage. Imagine 
shooting an arrow from the strongest bow in such a 
manner that it might travel about seven inches above 
the ground—how far would it go before it would strike 
a tall buttercup, a wiry bennet, or stick into a slight rise 
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