May Twenty-eighth
In the evening you often see a chimney swift (it is not a swallow) flying back and forth over dead tree-tops. Each time it pauses as though about to alight, but after what seems to be a momentary hesitation, it passes on. With a field-glass you might detect it snapping off the twigs and carrying them into an unused chimney, where it fastens them to the bricks with a glutinous saliva. One after another the twigs are glued together until a bracket-like basket is made, and in this the four white eggs are laid.