0 
THE SPARROW AGAEV. 
Ill 
again along the lanes letting the wheat run out of the back of 
his gig as it went. Besides small birds, one fatal year the rooks, 
who to our delight were at that time just establishing a small 
rookery in our group of old elms in the field, suffered also. 
Many old birds lay dead on the ground under their nests, and 
the new rookery was finally abandoned. (It is rather gratifying 
to remember that a little boy who was on one occasion sent out 
to pick up what he could of the poisoned grain — threw it over 
the paling into that farmer’s own poultry yard ; so he informed us 
afterwards. We never heard what happened after that exploit !) 
The martens are a very sore subject. For years, up to 1885 
or '86, they used to build on our south side, while the red-throated 
chimney swallow appropriated the north porch. There were 
always two broods in the year, and to watch them (the white- 
breasted martens in the south porch) was my joy and delight ; 
they were never afraid, and they would swoop down with a 
scream close by the cat’s ears, when she went out to take her 
walks abroad. I cannot blame the sparrows, I know they had 
no hand in it, but the martens have long since ceased to build 
here. Once, not long after their desertion, a pair of martens sat 
on a rose-arch and looked at the old place. I thought they 
would come back to the nest, but they didn’t, and I have not 
seen them since. I think of one possible reason. Some foolish 
person had advised the nests to be taken down in the winter, 
“ his father had done it every year to encourage the swallows,” 
so I reluctantly let one be taken away. It did not encourage 
ours. Just once, after they were gone, I caught a sparrow 
prying about the forsaken nest. He was immediately scared 
away and never has ventured near it since. The chimney 
swallows remained with us longer, but they grew timid and came 
no more. 1 am convinced that the miscreants who shoot them 
for women’s hats and bonnets, on the other side, as they rest on 
telegraph wires before crossing the straits, are alone to blame 
for the undoubted decrease of our martens. 
There is no such trouble with the swifts, at least not here- 
abouts in South Bucks. It has been their habit for no one 
knows how many years, to breed among the inside rafters of the 
old roof of a dwelling-house at the end of the garden here. They 
creep in under the eaves and make themselves at home in the 
roof, and there is never any apparent diminution in their 
numbers. It is a large and prosperous and noisy colony. And 
every season, in the long summer evenings, in clear or clouded 
weather, our swifts collect together by scores, mount up on 
high, and sport gloriously in the open firmament of heaven. 
Huntercomhe Manor, Burnham, Bucks. E. V. B. 
