102 
G. EOOPEE-BIEDS: THEIE NESTS AND HABITS. 
Cats sometimes lay wait for them on the roofs, and catch them as 
they visit their nest. Cockney sportsmen, too, sometimes, with 
more or less success, practise shooting at their expense ; but, as I 
said, the bird has few enemies and many friends—well she deserves 
to have these. 
The sand- or hank-martin is a most amusing and interesting 
bird. It haunts rivers and large sheets of water, and is not, I think, 
often seen about here. A perpendicular bank of sand is absolutely 
necessary for the sand-martins’ breeding requirements. In it they 
perforate holes three feet in depth wherein they lay their eggs and 
bring up their young. Like the swallow’s, the eggs are four in 
number, and two broods are hatched during the summer. It is 
very amusing to watch these little birds flitting about the bank 
and taking “ headers ” into their holes. Unlike the swallows their 
number seems to increase year by year; in September, previously 
to their departure, any one rowing down the Thames will see them 
congregated in flocks which darken the air in the neighbourhood 
of the aits in which they roost. Now that the hawks are extir¬ 
pated, they have really no natural enemies to dread; but, like our¬ 
selves, they have their little domestic troubles. Their holes swarm 
with fleas, sometimes to such an extent as to render them uninhabit¬ 
able. I have seen these little pests, the real bed-fleas, clustering 
round the mouth of a hole as thick as bees about a hive. When 
this occurs the hole is deserted, and the little bird proceeds to dig 
out another. It is wonderful how, with its weak legs and claws, 
it can accomplish the task. 
One only of this family remains to he mentioned—the swift; the 
last to come, the first to go (her stay with us is not more than four 
months, arriving in May and leaving in August). The swift 
appears to act on the principle on which Charles Lamb excused his 
late attendance at office. When called over the coals for coming 
so late, he admitted the fact, but pleaded as his excuse that he 
“ went away so early.” The swift generally affects the higher 
regions of the air, circling round church towers and other lofty 
buildings, wherein she usually makes her nest (though I have seen 
it under the thatch of a cottage). Excepting when sitting, the 
bird appears to spend her whole life in the air. She differs from 
the swallow in that she lays but two eggs, and only breeds once 
in the year; she has four toes, her congener but three. 
The swift reminds me of an interesting little bird, not unlike her 
in appearance, though differing in every other respect. This is the 
stormy petrel; a true citizen of the world, her range extending 
from the most northerly latitudes ever reached by mariner or ex¬ 
plorer, to the sands of Margate. Her home is on the deep, and the 
rougher the weather the more she seems to enjoy herself, now 
skimming over the white crests of the waves, and now dipping into 
the water-valleys made by their subsidence. These birds are most 
frequently seen in very rough weather. The sailors call them 
“Mother Carey’s chickens,” Mother Carey having been a witch, 
supposed to brew storms, and the birds being regarded as her 
