THE PURPLE MARTIN. 
173 
the tree on the trunk of which the Blue-bird’s box was fastened, caught the 
Martin, and clipped his tail with scissors, in the hope that such mortifying 
punishment might prove effectual in inducing him to remove to his own 
tenement. No such thing ; for no sooner had I launched him into the air, 
than he at once rushed back to the box. I again caught him, and clipped 
the tip of each wing in such a manner that he still could fly sufficiently well 
to procure food, and once more to set him at liberty. The desired effect, 
however, was not produced, and as I saw the pertinacious Martin keep the 
box in spite of all my wishes that he should give it up, I seized him in 
anger, and disposed of him in 'such a way that he never returned to the 
neighbourhood. 
At the house of a friend of mine in- Louisiana, some Martins took posses- 
sion of sundry holes in the cornices, and there reared their young for several 
years, until the insects which they introduced to the house induced the 
owner to think of a reform. Carpenters were employed to clean the place, 
and close up the apertures by which the birds entered the cornice. This 
was soon done. The Martins seemed in despair ; they brought twigs and 
other materials, and began to form nests wherever a hole could be found in 
any part of the building ; but were so chased off that after repeated attempts, 
the season being in the mean time advanced, they were forced away, and 
betook themselves to some Woodpeckers’ holes on the dead trees about the 
plantation. The next spring, a house was built for them. The erection 
of such houses is a general practice, the Purple Martin being considered 
as a privileged pilgrim, and the harbinger of spring. 
The note of the Martin is not melodious, but is nevertheless very pleasing. 
The twittei'ings of the male while courting the female are more interesting. 
Its notes are among the first that are heard in the morning, and are welcome 
to the sense of every body. The industrious farmer rises from his bed as he 
hears them. They are soon after mingled with those of many other birds, 
and the husbandman, certain of a fine day, renews his peaceful labours with 
an elated heart. The still more independent Indian is also fond of the 
Martin’s company. He frequently hangs up a calabash on some twig near 
his camp, and in this cradle the bird keeps watch, and sallies forth to drive 
off the Multure that might otherwise commit depredations on the deer-skins 
or pieces of venison exposed to the air to be dried. The slaves in the 
Southern States take more pains to accommodate this favourite bird. The 
calabash is ‘ neatly scooped out, and attached to the flexible top of a cane, 
brought from the swamp, where that plant usually grows, and placed close 
to their huts. Almost every country tavern has a Martin box on the upper 
part of its sign-board ; and I have observed that the handsomer the box, the 
better does the inn generally prove to be. 
