The Swallows


Once upon a time some Eskimo children were playing in the wet clay by

the seashore. They were making tiny toy houses of the clay. These

houses they fastened high on the face of the cliff.



The children chattered and laughed. They ran gaily to and fro in their

happy play.



The people of the village heard their merry voices. Their busy mother

paused with her long bone needle between her fing
rs. She looked up

and smiled at her little ones.



"How happy my children are to-day!" she said, and she hummed a little

tune to herself.



"They are very wise children!" said a neighbour. "They say so many

wonderful things. Indeed, they seem to know more of some things than

even the wise men of the village!"



"Yes, they are quite wonderful," said the mother. "I sometimes listen

to their chatter and watch their nimble little fingers, and I wonder

who taught them all they know."



"Oh," said another woman, "they do not seem so extraordinary to me. In

fact, they look to me like little birds, flitting about in their dark

dresses."



"They do look like birds!" said the mother, gazing at the children.



"I do believe they are birds," said the neighbour.



"But the voices are my children's voices," said the mother, looking

again in wonder.



"And they are still building tiny clay houses on the cliffs!" said the

other woman.



"But those toy clay houses are birds' nests," said the neighbour, "and

those little figures darting back and forth are no longer children.

They have changed to birds!"



"Yes," said the mother, peering from under her hand. "Yes, those are

birds building their funny clay nests on the cliffs yonder.



"But the birds have the happy twittering voices of my children. You

were right. They were wonderful children!



"Ah, well, my only wish is that they may remain near us. They will

cheer us and keep us from becoming lonely!"



"Surely that is a reasonable wish--since they are your own little

ones," said the neighbour. "I, too, hope that the little birds will

remain near our village!"



And indeed the mother's wish was granted. Even to this day the little

swallows do not fear man.



In fact, they still choose to build their nests near the camps of the

people. They still fix their tiny toy houses on the faces of the sea

cliffs.



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