In Holland the
stork makes free with the house-top as a matter of course, often
dropping a stray eel, small snake, or frog, intended for his young, down
the chimney into the fireless grate of his astonished hosts below. He
knows that nobody would be cruel enough to meddle with that untidy
bundle of sticks which houses his family circle. The devotion of these
beautiful birds to the fluffy youngsters on the roof is an example to
those beneath it. In Turkey the stork is greatly respected, and lately
he has been better thought of than ever. A small village on the Gulf of
Ismidt caught fire, and over two hundred houses were destroyed. Many
storks' nests were there, and when the fire began to rage the terrified
birds fled pell-mell, but for a few moments only. After a brief pause
they recovered their presence of mind, and with a rush the same broad
wings which had hurried them away from death bore them as swiftly back
to the burning stacks, where, in each nest, there lay two or three
helpless young. The old birds settled down over the broods, covered them
with their wings, and one after another perished without another
attempt to save themselves.

[Illustration: A Swallow's Nest on the Crank of a Bell-wire.]

What the stork is abroad, the swallow is, or ought to be, in England,
honoured and admired. Here he makes his summer home, and for the few
months during which he stays amply earns his keep by clearing away the
swarms of flies. The number of injurious insects consumed by one pair of
swallows and their young during a single day cannot be less than one
thousand, and the number killed during the season is beyond calculation.

Swallows are quick to avail themselves of ready-made nooks for their
nests. When the eaves and similar places will not do, they boldly enter
houses and churches, and take any spot that takes their fancy. A farmer
at Crux Eastern was honoured by a couple who chose a door inside his
home, and, when the nest was accidentally shaken down, pitched upon
another door. The farmer's wife, fearing that this nest would be
destroyed also, drove a large nail into the woodwork beneath as a
support. But Dame Swallow could not put up with this interference, and,
leaving the second nest, she chose the crank of a bell-wire in the
kitchen. Without more ado she built, laid eggs, and hatched them, though
the farmer gave a supper to his men while she was still house-keeping,
and while the sheep-shearers enjoyed their nois