A PAIR of swallows, while looking for a barn in which to build, came across a windmill, with its sails furled and its great wheel standing motionless.

“What sort of a place is this?” they said. “Surely no better can be found for our home. We’ll let other swallows go into the old tumble-down barns around, but this beautiful tower we will secure for ourselves.”

Then, flying below the dome-like roof of the mill, they discovered a small window, just under the eaves, with a pane of glass broken out, through which they darted, and soon picked out a spot under a rafter inside for their nest. At once they went to work building it. A pond near by supplied them with mud. Working up little balls of this with their bills, they carried them into the mill and fastened them against the rafter they had chosen. In this way, adding little by little, as a bricklayer builds up a house, they built up the walls of their nest. Then they brought grass to line the inside, coiling it around nicely that it might be smooth and even. Last of all, above the grass, they made a bed of soft feathers.

Now, it happened, the very next night after all this was finished, that a strong wind sprang up, and the next morning early the miller appeared and went into his mill. Presently he came out again, and, standing on the ground, under the great wheel, began to unfurl the sails on each of its four arms, one after the other. As soon as this was done, loosening its fastenings he let the wheel go; and the wind, filling the sails, began to turn it around—at first slowly, but gradually faster and faster, until it was running at full speed.

The swallows, that were taking a holiday after their labors, and flying about joyously up in the air, looked down surprised at what was going on. But their surprise was turned to dismay when they found that the wheel was revolving directly in front of the little window through which they gained entrance into the mill. They[367]
[368] flew from side to side, hour after hour, hoping the wheel would stop; but it never once rested through the day or the night, and continued to go until another morning appeared. Then, wearied out and in despair, they lodged on a fence near by.

Here another swallow, that had her home in a neighboring barn, saw them perched with drooping wings. Lighting beside them, she asked what was the matter.

“‘Matter’!” cried they. “We are ruined. The man in yonder mill tied up his horrid wheel just long enough for us to build our nest under his roof, and then set it going. Look at it! Were we inside, we could never get out; and now that we are out, we can never get in. So cruelly have we been deceived!”

“You have been deceived, my friends, that is true,” replied the other, gently, “but not by the miller: you have deceived yourselves. What does he care for swallows? It was your place to inquire how the building was used, before making your nest in it. Instead of doing this, you took the risk, and so have lost your labor. But do not despair as though all had been lost. If you will be satisfied to lodge like other swallows, and will come to our barn, across yonder field, there is plenty of room left over the haymow, and time enough too, for you to build another nest; and there you may yet rear your brood in peace and content.”

When we take for granted what we ought to prove by careful research, we are apt to be disappointed in the result; especially is caution needed when, leaving the old beaten track, we venture to mark out a new path for ourselves.