All this time the swallow was darting and wheeling and circling about Phyllis in a most graceful manner.
"Are you never still?" asked Phyllis, at last. "I do not believe you even stop to eat."
"I do not," said the swallow, darting after a big blue fly. "I eat on the fly." And then he burst into a giggling twitter.
"I catch nearly all my food on the wing. No one can complain—as they do of the robin—of our destroying fruit.
"We do not care for fruit at all. I would rather have a dozen nice fat flies than all the cherries in the world!"
"Well," laughed Phyllis, "I'd rather have a dozen ripe cherries than all the flies in the world!"
"Tastes differ," twittered the swallow.
THE SWALLOWS
Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff.