The sun shone very warm and bright, and the buds were growing big and red on the horse-chestnut-trees.
"I shall go down to the brook to look for pussy-willows this afternoon," said the little girl.
Phyllis was sitting in the window of the barn loft with the sun shining full upon her. All was very quiet and the little girl was half asleep.
Suddenly, with a flash of blue wings and a funny little twitter, a bird darted right across her face. Phyllis sat up straight, and, leaning out of the window, looked up at the eaves.
There she saw the merry twitterer, with several of his companions, who seemed very busy and very talkative.
They darted here and there, they skimmed through the air so swiftly that Phyllis could only catch a gleam of blue. They wheeled and circled and darted. All the time they twittered, twittered, twittered.
"What are they up to?" said Phyllis, leaning farther out and looking more closely.
For an instant one of the birds clung to the eaves and seemed to be pecking away at a bit of mud which was stuck to the eaves.
Phyllis noticed the deeply forked tail of the bird. Its back and wings and tail were steel blue. Its throat and chest were bright chestnut, becoming paler near the back of the body.
"Oh, I know you," laughed Phyllis. "I have no fear of frightening you, for you are a swallow.