The swallows in the Tyrol pass for holy birds. There is a tradition that their forefathers helped the Lord Almighty to build the firmament, but how and in what manner popular tradition does not tell us. Being blessed by God and dedicated to the Virgin Mary, the simple peasant often leaves his doors and windows open to attract such valued inmates, seeing that peace and happiness enter with them, and lightning never strikes the roof where swallows build. Should they forsake a house in the course of the summer, it is a sign of coining misfortune. He who kills a swallow will lose father or mother.
A firm belief in the goodness of the swallows made Kathi honor and welcome the familiar visitants. "They were no greedy guests," she said, "for they always arrived when the bins of meal and winter provisions were empty, and in the autumn, as soon as they were filled again, they were off without bite or bit."
Many an old deserted room in the high-pitched roof was given over to these inoffensive, man-loving birds. Hundreds of nests, some in good condition, others deserted and out of repair, clung to old beams, rafters and wainscots. A steady sound of fluttering and juvenile chirping issued through the closed doors, contrasting with the silence of the long stone corridor, whilst parent birds whirled gracefully in and out through the dusty open windows, or poised themselves on the warm shingles of the roof. The grandest, most comfortable quarters were afforded in a large unused chamber occupying the front gable; and, curiously enough, either in reality or fancy, we could not help observing that whilst the various members of the community lived fraternally together, there still seemed to be a distinction between the swallows who dwelt in these spacious quarters and those who lived in humbler lodgings behind. You might imagine that the dwellers in front had become rich through trade, for they suffered no more from the perpetual booming of the great house-clock above their heads, or from the ever-moving pendulum which pulsated like a living thing in their midst, than a manufacturer from the constant sound of his busy steam-engines and rattling machinery. This swallow domain soon became known as Castle Clock-Tower, and the chief inmates as the Herr and Frau von Schwalbe and family, whilst, oddly enough, if it was our daily pleasure to watch them, they showed an equal curiosity and interest in us.