herds that take them; and though many are to be seen to my knowledge all the winter through in many parts of the south of England. The most intelligent shepherds tell me that some few of these birds appear on the Downs in March, and then withdraw, probably, in warrens and stone-quarries: now and then a nest is ploughed up in a fallow on the Downs under a furrow, but it is thought a rarity. At the time of wheat-harvest they begin to be taken in great numbers; are sent for sale in vast quantities to Brighthelmstone and Tunbridge; and appear at the tables of all the gentry that entertain with any degree of elegance. About Michaelmas they retire, and are seen no more till March. Though these birds are, when in season, in great plenty on the South Downs round Lewes, yet at East Bourn, which is the eastern extremity of those downs, they abound much more. One thing is very remarkable, that though in the height of the season so many hundreds of dozens are taken, yet they never are seen to flock, and it is a rare thing to see more than three or four at a time, so that there must be a perpetual flitting and constant progressive succession. It does not appear that any wheatears are taken to the westward of Houghton Bridge, which stands on the River Arun.

I did not fail to look particularly after my new migration of ringousels, and to take notice whether they continued on the Downs to this season of the year, as I had formerly remarked them in the month of October, all the way from Chichester to Lewes, wherever there were any shrubs and covert; but not one bird of this sort came within my observation. I only saw a few larks and whinchats, some rooks, and several kites and buzzards.

About Midsummer a flight of crossbills comes to the pine-groves about this house, but never makes any long stay.

The old tortoise that I have mentioned in a former letter still continues in this garden; it retired under ground about the 20th of November, and came out again for one day on the 30th; it lies now buried in a wet swampy border, under a wall facing to the south, and is enveloped at present in mud and mire!

Here is a large rookery round this house, the inhabitants of which seem to get their livelihood very easily, for they spend the greatest part of the day on their nest-trees when the weather is mild. These Rooks retire every evening all the winter

from this rookery, where they only call by the way, as they are going to roost in deep woods: at the dawn of day they always revisit their nest-trees, and are preceded a few minutes by a flight of daws, that act, as it were, as their harbingers."

*

*Rooks are continually fighting and pulling each other's nests to pieces: these proceedings are inconsistent with living in

LETTER XVIII.

Selborne, Jan. 29, 1774.

DEAR SIR, THE house-swallow or chimney. swallow is undoubtedly the first comer of all the British hirundines, and appears in general on or about the 13th of April, as I have remarked from many years' observation. Not but that now and then a straggler is seen much earlier; and, in particular, when I was a boy, I observed a swallow for a whole day together on a sunny warm Shrove Tuesday, which day could not fall out later than the middle of March, and often happened early in February.

It is worth remarking, that these birds are seen first about lakes and millponds; and it is also very particular, that if these early visiters happen to find frost and snow, as was the case of the two dreadful springs of 1770 and 1771, they immediately withdraw for a time; a circumstance, this, much more in favour of hiding than migration, since it is much more probable that a bird should retire

such close community. And yet, if a pair offer to build on a single tree, the nest is plundered and demolished at once. Some rooks roost on their nest-trees. The twigs which the rooks drop in building supply the poor with brushwood to light their fires. Some unhappy pairs are not permitted to finish any nests till the rest have completed their building. As soon as they get a few sticks together, a party comes and demolishes the whole. As soon as the rooks have finished their nests, and before they lay, the cocks begin to feed the hens, who receive their bounty with a fondling, tremulous voice and fluttering wings, and all the little blandishments that are expressed by the young while in a helpless state. This is continued through the whole season of hatching.-WHITE's Observations on Birds.

to its hybernaculum just at hand, tnan return for a week or two only to warmer latitudes.

The swallow, though called the chimney-swallow, by no means builds altogether in chimneys, but often within barns and outhouses against the rafters; and so she did in Virgil's time:

"Ante

Garrula quàm tignis nidos suspendat hirundo."

In Sweden she builds in barns, and is called ladu swala, the barn-swallow. Besides, in the warmer parts of Europe there are no chimneys to houses, except they are English built in these countries she constructs her nest in porches, and gateways, and galleries, and open halls.

Here and there a bird may affect some odd, peculiar place, as we have known a swallow build down the shaft of an old well, through which chalk had been formerly drawn up for the purpose of manure; but, in general, with us this hirundo builds in chimneys, and loves to haunt those stacks where there is a constant fire, no doubt for the sake of warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate shaft where there is a fire; but prefers one adjoining to that of the kitchen, and disregards the perpetual smoke of that funnel, as I have often observed with some degree of wonder.

Five or six, or more feet down the chimney, does this little bird begin to form her nest about the middle of May, which consists, like that of the house-martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt or mud, mixed with short pieces of straw to render it tough and permanent; with this difference, that whereas the shell of the martin is nearly hemi

spheric, that of the swallow is open at the top, and like half a deep dish: this nest is lined with fine grasses and feathers, which are often collected as they float in the air.

Wonderful is the address which this adroit bird shows all day long, in ascending and descending with security through so narrow a pass. When

hovering over the mouth of the funnel, the vibrations of her wings acting on the confined air occasion a rumbling like thunder. It is not improbable that the dam submits to this inconvenient situation so low in the shaft in order to secure her broods from rapacious birds, and particularly from owls, which frequently fall down chimneys, perhaps in attempting to get at these nestlings.

The swallow lays from four to six white eggs, dotted with red specks, and brings out her first brood about the last week in June or the first week in July. The progressive method by which the young are introduced into life is very amusing: first, they emerge from the shaft with difficulty enough, and often fall down into the rooms below; for a day or so they are fed on the chimney top, and then are conducted to the dead, leafless bough of some tree, where, sitting in a row, they are attended with great assiduity, and may then be called perchers. In a day or two more they become fliers, but are still unable to take their own food; therefore they play about near the place where the dams are hawking for flies, and, when a mouthful is collected, at a certain signal given, the dam and the nestling advance, rising towards each other, and meeting at an angle, the young one all the while uttering such a little quick note of gratitude