St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1890-12-08
SWALLOWS SECRETS
Why They Migrate With the
Changing Seasons OF
the Year.
What Travellers Say OF the
Beauties Of Their South
ern Homes.
Their Nests In the Parthenon
and Under Pharaoh'S
Beard.
The Letter Carriers Story
and Other Incidents Of
Their Lives.


yellow, aresshedding their leaves every
hour. In the garden there are linger-
ing summer flowers; pale, pitiful bios
SONS of the last bud that remains on
the spikes of the evening prinl-
rose, or dangle from the
tips of the fuchia branches,
Dahlias there are, with cockades of red
and yellow, which try to look brave but
really shudder every morning and even
ing, and wonder how long they will be
able to endure the frost. Only the mari
Colds are yet brght-the gay. tawny
fharigOlds, Indifferent to cold winds.
flashing their broad shields to the pale
sunlight and somewhat contemptuous
OF the violets which are creeping out
from under their leaves. suggesting
winter. prophesylng spring.
And along the tops OF the roofs, on
the telegraph wires, on the matched
edges of the barns. cluster the swallows.
1t is time for their flight and they are
discussing it, while every now and then
cOquettishly plGming their bright featl-
ers. They sit i'll clusters, some facing
one way, some another. TO The casual
observer they seem merely grouped
haphazard, twittering in bird fashion on
no matter what. But one can Imagine
Il method in their grouping,
subject for their conversation. They are
talking of their other home, the winter
home in the lands on the other
side of the sea. Some of the young
ones born in cold England have never
seen this country Moreover, they are
idle and diSiucllned for flight. Why
should they migrate, they demand?
Why leave this pleasant birthplace,
where there are plenty of flies to be
caught, and the midday sunshine fall
ing OH the tiles is warm through their
feathers. Then the old birds fall to
telling of the beauties of those southern
lands, of the home TO which they Will
take their children.
There is hole at Athens, crack in
the Met0pe Of the Parthenon. Year
after year the Old swallows return
there. always to find the same place,
unalttred by time. Ii yOu want nome
that time shall never alter, say another
pair, go to Egypt, We always go TO
Egypt, and Nestle under the beard of
Il ruined Pharaoh He was the
father of his people, Say the HER
ogiyphS, years ago when the
world was young. But now he only
shelters the BIRDS. Rough and rugged
he stands, you would think there was
gentitneSS about him, yet he is very
kind to us. The sand Ofthe desert has
buried him up to his knees, but it never
Denetrates behind his beard where We
live No one passes there, for even the
Arabs Shun the lonely place. where
there is nothing for men and beasts to
| eat. but for swallows endless space uh-
der the lofty blue sky; and perpetual
sunshine falling across the lonely desert.
But We" returned another pair
"like the Stir, the hustle, the movement
of cities. Come and stay with us upon
our minaret. There is room there yet
| for another couple OF swallows. High,
| high over the city of ConStantinople
| rises its gilded turret, flashing back
| the SUMS lays. Beneath, looking
down you can watch the crowd
that hurries to and fro in the
| bazaar and see the ships sailing
| slowly over the water of the Golden
| Horn. On, it is beautiful, beautiful,
our southern home, and the heart stirs
| within you at the sound OF the mueZZln
voice and the sight of all the people
kneeling AT prayer. Your lonely desert
can show nothing like that"
! Beautiful Malta" chirps another.
Year after year go there. and rejoice
which | see the white terraces between
| skies and SEAS as you will find nowhere
| else''-
Save in the Bay of Naples" inter-
| rupts another, for the discussion is
waxing fast and furious, as each bird
| twltterS the praise of his winter home
The Bay of Naples for me-" twtters
the last speaker; "bIue and broad, with
| plenty of shelter under the balconies of
the clustering houses, and across the
sky floats low cloud of smoke, the
smoke of Vesuvius, while under foot
lie the buried cities of the past, far more
wonderful than your pyramid and
Pnaraohs. See Naples and then die,
my friends, come and see Naples"
| FlutterS forward. then, an old Swal-
low, whose wings are not SO strong as
those OF these eager young creatures.
Wonderful is the story that it tells.
| How one year, while sitting on its nest
I under the caves of an English house, a
hand was put out from the window
close by, and the frightened bird cap
| tured. 1t lay still iii the hand of its
captor, too frightened to breathe, ex-
pscting speedy death every, in
slant. But nO--one wing was
stretched out, and under it was
| fastened with SeaIing-wax tiny scrap
| OF white paper. Then the window was
| opened and the bird set free. What
weight it was, that little missive: al
| most more than the bird could bear, and
| so firmly secured that all the pecking
| and pluming she did failed to remove it.
| Migrating time came; should she ever
| cross the sea? She was timd bird,
| and always dreaded that crossing. How
was IL to be accomplished with that
burden under her wing?
| On many vessel did she rest: many
/ q fhnnnhf ~ ch 10 OF fol
| the waste of waters. Fortunately for
her the crossing was fair and calm,
and thankfully she fiuttered down upon
| the trees on the other side. Even
then it was long way to the sun
| shine. and her strength had nearly
given out when she reached Florence the
| Fair, and sank down into an empty nest
left by some swallow under projecting
roof. Those who lived in the house no
/ ticed the weary bird and took her in.
Did they mean to kill her? No, they
/ had seen the paper under her wing, and
relieved her of the burden. They still
L keep her in their hands while
| ithey read the message brought from
! across the sea. 1t was written in
French, and ran thus; "Will any one
who finds this bird during the winter
| tify the same at the following address?'
| and then beneath it were written the no.
| name and address Of the sender.
A fiutter of Indignation passes through
/ the swallows after hearing her step.
"And you, my dear, what did they do
to you?" they all inquire of the heroine.
"They let me go, and l flew, and flew.
never resting until l reached Cairo.
! All. Twas frightened! have never been
again to those places"
''They were scientific people who tor
| tured you.' say the other swallows
alphabetically. "They have no con-
| sideration, those men of science. They
are always wanting to probe the Sc
crets of nature, although they know
quite well that nature will only tell
them half the truth"
| "And where we go has always puz-
| Zled them" chuckles an old swallow
| with white feather in his wing. "They
will never know, neveri They cannC<
| find the holes in Pharaoh'S beard, nor