The Purple Martin 
97 
cisely what they are not. Not even the little 
house wren has adapted itself so quickly to 
civilised men’s homes, as the swift and purple 
martin. 
Intelligent people, who are only just begin- 
ning to realise what birds do for us and how 
very much more they might be induced to do, 
are putting up boxes for the martins, not only 
near their own houses, that the birds may rid the 
air of mosquitoes, but in their gardens and 
orchards that incalculable numbers of injurious 
pests in the winged stage may be destroyed. 
When martins return to us in spring from 
Central and South America, where they have 
passed the winter, insects are just beginning to 
fly, and if they can be captured then, before 
they have a chance to lay their eggs, you see 
how much trouble and money are saved for the 
farmers by their tireless allies, the swallows. 
Unfortunately, purple martins are not so com- 
mon at the North as they were before the coming 
of those saucy little immigrants, the English 
sparrows, who take possession, by fair means 
or by foul, of every house that they can find. 
In the South, where the martins are still very 
numerous, a peach grower I know has set up 
in his orchard rows of poles, with a house on 
each, either for them or for bluebirds. He 
says these bird partners are of inestimable value 
in keeping his fruit trees free from insects. 
