PURPLE MARTIN. 
153 
house. This was a penurious close-fisted German, who hated 
them, because, as he said, 44 they eat his peas.” I told him 
he must certainly be mistaken, as I never knew an instance of 
Martins eating peas ; but he replied with coolness, that he 
had many times seen them himself 44 blaying near the hife, 
and going schnip , sclinap” by which I understood that it was 
his bees that had been the sufferers ; and the charge could not 
be denied. 
This sociable and half domesticated bird arrives in the 
southern frontiers of the United States late in February, or 
early in March ; reaches Pennsylvania about the 1st of April, 
and extends his migrations as far north as the country round 
Hudson’s Bay, where he is first seen in May, and disappears 
in August ; so, according to the doctrine of torpidity, has, 
consequently, a pretty long annual nap, in those frozen regions, 
of eight or nine months under the ice ! We, however, choose 
to consider him as advancing northerly with the gradual 
approach of spring, and retiring with his young family, on the 
first decline of summer, to a more congenial climate. 
The summer residence of this agreeable bird is universally 
among the habitations of man ; who, having no interest in his 
destruction, and deriving considerable advantage, as well as 
amusement, from his company, is generally his friend and 
protector. Wherever he comes, he finds some hospitable 
retreat fitted up for his accommodation, and that of his young, 
either in the projecting wooden cornice, on the top of the 
“ I have had several opportunities, at the period of their arrival, of seeing pro- 
digious flocks moving over that city (New Orleans) or its vicinity, at a consi- 
derable height, each bird performing circular sweeps as it proceeded, for the 
purpose of procuring food. These flocks were loose, and moved either westward, 
or towards the northwest, at a rate not exceeding four miles in the hour, as I 
walked under one of them, with ease, for upwards of two miles, at that rate, 
on the 4th of February, 18*21, on the hank of the river below the city, constantly 
looking up at the birds, to the great astonishment of many passengers, who 
were bent on far different pursuits. My Fahrenheit’s thermometer stood at 68°, 
the weather being calm and drizzly. This flock extended about a mile and a 
half in length, by a quarter of a mile in breadth.” — Ed. 
