Since I have been here I have learned that there are such things as swallows--fidgety birds, that winter abroad like Auntie May and Mr. Fox, and that I would as soon think of eating as I would of eating the baby. I feel a sort of relationship, too, as if swallows were the 'smoke-blues' among birds; their fur is the kind of blue we are, only darker, and they are not at all a common kind of bird. One summer a swallow built its nest in a tool-house not far off the tree where the nurse and baby and Lotty used to take the pram and sit all the afternoon. Lotty had not much to do; the nurse would hardly trust her with baby, so she played about and pried into other people's affairs. She discovered the swallow's nest high up under the eaves, where nothing except a Lotty could possibly reach it. She poked away at it with a stick, and pushed it down. There _was_ a scene! Rosamond was so cross! When she was told, she ran straight into the shed where Lotty told her all the birds were lying about on the ground. She first bade the head nurse hold me and hide my face under her dress, lest I should see her go in and learn where the birds were. As if I did not know, and as if I should touch them! The nurse put me into the pram beside the baby and rocked us both; and I liked that, and lay quite still and waited for Rosamond to come back out of the tool-house and tell us all about it. She soon came back and sat down beside nurse and Tom, who had come out too. Lotty sneaked away crying. 'That little fool!' said Rosamond. 'What did she want to go into the tool-shed for? One of the birds is not to be found, but I have picked up the nest and two of the nestlings, and put them back and jammed the remnants of the nest against the wall somehow. Will they live? The only thing is that they would have been ready to fly in a day or two. Perhaps the mother will come back and feed them? We must put a saucer of bread and milk there. And keep Loki away. You must promise faithfully not to go near the place to see, nurse. As for Lotty, she will never look at a swallow again, I should hope. Ignorant meddling little thing!' All the rest of that afternoon did I sit quietly beside the head nurse, with my eye fixed on that shed. By and by I counted as many as ten swallows flying in and out continually--making a great fuss, in fact. I promised myself to go there and see for myself after dark. But I was saved from committing a very vile and foolish action. Of course the sight of a cat, however harmless, would have driven away the relations of the little swallows for ever! About a couple of hours later, however, Rosamond went into the shed, and told Beatrice what she had seen.