THE NEW STUDY OF BIRDS 



Prince, no one wished to lose a game, so Wood and 

 I never ceased to stab short, smashing volleys at 

 each other within racket's reach of the net. After 

 the fourth glorious, gruelling set I knew that 

 the temperamental evil had left my physical me, 

 and that on the morrow a fish would be as new and 

 wonderful a thing as ever, and my next dive would 

 again be into sheer fairyland. 



While the last fraction of stabilization was being 

 effected by the tallest high-ball in the world, I 

 was presented to an imposing and charming 

 matron — a passing tourist of note — who said she 

 hoped to be invited to visit the schooner, but not if 

 there was a single live bird on board, as she could 

 not bear them. She then shuddered as a little 

 ground dove flew past. My mind went back to 

 what I had written in the morning, and on the spot 

 I invented and described in detail a noisy and well 

 filled aviary on the Lieutenant, and after making 

 my manners, turned for absolution to my inter- 

 rupted occupation. And now, without further 

 preamble, I can elaborate and complete my theme. 



I know several people, not otherwise criminally 

 insane, who dislike and are terrified by birds. 

 In some future life their unspeakable parents or 

 nurses will doubtless have their souls recleansed 

 as angle-worms. And even in that incarnation 

 their ultimate fate will probably be ejection from 

 some grassy crevice by some holy angle-worm into 

 the maw of a waiting robin. Let us think of this 

 class of fellow humans as thankfully small and 



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