A Swallow, observing a Farmer sowing his field with flax, called the
Birds together, and informed them what he was about. She told them that
flax was the material of which the thread was made that composed the
fowler’s nets, so fatal to the feathered race, and strongly advised
them to assist her in picking up the seed, and destroying it. The Birds
heard her with indifference, and gave themselves no trouble about the
matter. In a little time the flax sprung up, and appeared above the
ground. She then put them in mind once more of their impending danger,
and wished them to pluck it up in the bud, before it grew any farther.
But they still slighted her warnings, and the flax grew up into stalk.
She again urged them to attack it, for it was not yet too late; but
they only ridiculed her for a silly pretending prophet. The Swallow,
finding all her remonstrances availed nothing, was resolved to leave
the society of such careless unthinking creatures, before it was too
late: so quitting the woods, she repaired to the houses; and, forsaking
the conversation of the Birds, has ever since taken up her abode among
the dwellings of men.