which had been left resting on the sand by the 

 receding tide. With head bowed she was looking 

 intently at some object she was holding in her lap. 



In this attitude she remained until the sound of 

 my approach told her of my presence. She looked 

 up, but said not a word. Nor was it necessary for 

 her to speak. I saw in a glance what had occurred. 



The object in her lap was the oil-soaked gull. 

 And it was dead . . . 



Truly dead. Its recovery after eating had been 

 but temporary. The poisonous pitch in its plumage 

 and its previous struggles had proved to be too 

 much. The weary frame had given up the fight at 

 last. 



I regret, Reader, that this incident cannot be 

 closed with the conventional "happy ending"; I 

 fain would tell how care and kindness had finally 

 restored the bird so that it eventually was able to 

 rejoin its companions of the sea; but history, not 

 romance, must be served. 



Yet, having given without reserve the details of 

 this unfortunate incident, candor also compels me 

 to add some further pertinent facts. 



As every one who has the least acquaintance 



[208] 



