G. HOOPER—birds: their nests and habits. 
101 
vation and comment, so it matters little where we may begin, and 
the more common the subject selected perhaps the better, as the 
accuracy of the recorded observations may be more easily tested. 
I will first take the swallows, the most harmless, useful, and in¬ 
offensive of birds, without whose aid the air we breathe would be 
filled with noxious insects to an insufferable degree. Of swallows 
four distinct kinds make these islands their summer residence,— 
the swallow, the martin, the sand-martin, and the swift. Of these 
the first to arrive (about the 12th of April) is the swallow or 
chimney-swallow, as they are called, from their habit, perhaps 
more common formerly, when wood was more used as fuel than 
coal, of building in chimneys. They now, I think, prefer empty 
shafts, the interior of hovels, or other open buildings. On their 
arrival, and before entering on the serious business of life, about 
a fortnight is occupied in recuperating after the fatigues of the 
journey, the whole time being spent in aerial excursions, revisiting 
the scenes of their youth, in flitting, wheeling, flirting, chasing one 
another, capturing insects, and generally enjoying themselves. 
Indeed, the swallow always strikes me as one of the happiest, as 
well as the most interesting, of birds. She has no cares, few 
enemies, and, unless she comes a little too early in the year, un¬ 
limited food. Even when building, she seems to make the process 
one more of pleasure than labour. The nest being formed of clay, 
moistened with saliva, it must necessarily be built up gradually, 
or it would fall by its own weight. So, like “ the jolly wood 
cutter, who dwells below the hill, she takes her work at a light 
hand, and leaves it at her will.” An hour or two of the day is 
spent in work, the rest in play. The swallow is distinguished 
from the martin by wearing a reddish-brown cravat under her chin, 
while the martin has a purely white waistcoat. She is longer in 
the wing, and of more rapid flight; her legs and feet are bare, 
whilst those of the martin are feathered down to the toes. She 
breeds twice in the year, and hatches four young ones each time. 
The martin and the sand-martin arrive about the same time, a 
week or so after the swallow. The former is called the window- 
martin, from its habit of fixing its nest under the eaves and over 
the windows of a house. She, too, produces two broods of four 
each in the course of the summer. It is worthy of remark that so 
prolific a bird, and one so little persecuted, should not increase 
more rapidly in numbers, but so far as my own observation extends, 
the annual visitants are always the same in number, or nearly so. 
I have four or five pairs round my house every year, but never 
more. They must be gifted with strong memories, or are great 
observers of tradition. Eorty years ago several pairs built round 
the eaves of my house, over my bedroom window. A tidy house¬ 
maid, irritated at the litter they made, poked the nest down, and 
they have never built there since. Almost their only enemy that I 
am aware of is that most impudent of birds, the sparrow, who sits 
quietly by, watching the progress of the nest, and, when completed, 
ejects the tenant, and takes possession of it for his own purposes. 
