In England, in one corner of the piazza of a house, a swallow had
erected her nest, while a wren occupied a box which was purposely hung
in the centre. They were both much domesticated. The wren became
unsettled in its habits, and formed a design of dislodging the swallow;
and having made an attack, actually succeeded in driving her away.
Impudence gets the better of modesty; and this exploit was no sooner
performed, than the wren removed every part of the materials to her own
box, with the most admirable dexterity. The signs of triumph appeared
very visible; it fluttered with its wings with uncommon velocity, and a
universal joy was perceivable in all its movements. The peaceable
swallow, like the passive Quaker, meekly sat at a small distance, and
never offered the least opposition. But no sooner was the plunder
carried away, than the injured bird went to work with unabated ardor,
and in a few days the depredations were repaired.
A swallow's nest, built in the west corner of a window in England
facing the north, was so much softened by the rain beating against it,
that it was rendered unfit to support the superincumbent load of five
pretty, full-grown swallows. During a storm, the nest fell into the
lower corner of the window, leaving the young brood exposed to all the
fury of the blast. To save the little creatures from an untimely death,
the owner of the house benevolently caused a covering to be thrown over
them, till the severity of the storm was past. No sooner had it
subsided, than the sages of the colony assembled, fluttering round the
window, and hovering over the temporary covering of the fallen nest. As
soon as this careful anxiety was observed, the covering was removed,
and the utmost joy evinced by the group, on finding the young ones
alive and unhurt. After feeding them, the members of this assembled
community arranged themselves into working order. Each division, taking
its appropriate station, commenced instantly to work; and before
nightfall, they had jointly completed an arched canopy over the young
brood in the corner where they lay, and securely covered them against a
succeeding blast. Calculating the time occupied by them in performing
this piece of architecture, it appeared evident that the young must
have perished from cold and hunger before any single pair could have
executed half the job.