Willie and I interpreted the clamor somewhat as follows:—
[Between parent birds.]
"I am going to take my foot off. Are you ready to put yours on? Don't be clumsy! Wait a minute, I'm not ready. I'm not ready, I tell you! NOW!!"
[Between rival mothers.]
"Your egg is so close to mine that I can't breathe"—
"Move your egg, then, I can't move mine!"
"You're sitting so close, I can't stretch my wings."
"Neither can I. You've got as much room as I have."
"I shall tumble if you crowd me."
"Go ahead and tumble, then! There is plenty of room in the sea."
[From one father to another, ceremoniously.]
"Pardon me, but I am afraid I shoved your wife off the rock last night."
"Don't mention it. I remember I shoved off your wife's mother last year."
We walked among the tiny whitewashed low-roofed cots, each with its silver-skinned fishes tacked invitingly against the door-frame to dry, until we came to my favorite, the corner cottage in the row. It has beautiful narrow garden strips in front,—solid patches of color in sweet gilly-flower bushes, from which the kindly housewife
