124 Our Bird Friexds. 



The most comical sight of all sea-bird life, I 

 think, is to see an old Piitiin Avith its mask-like 

 beak stuck full from end to end of small tish as 

 it enters its nesting burrow to feed the single 

 youngster sitting in the dark at the end of it. 

 The little fishes are held by the middle, and their 

 heads dangle down one side and their tails down 

 the other of the under mandible of their grotescjue- 

 looking captor. 



Terns of different species feed their chicks on 

 Sand Eels and tlie fry of surface-swimming sea 

 fishes, and it has always l)een a puzzle to me to 

 know how they distinguish their young ones from 

 those of their neighbours in a big colony where 

 they run about jik(^ a flock of miniatui'c slu^ep. 



Tnsect-eating birds with large families are com- 

 pelled to work terribly hard in order to keep the 

 wolf from the door. 



During the dry Avindy weather which prevailed 

 last ]\Iay I liad und(M' observation a pair of Star- 

 lings feeding their young under the roof of a 

 friend^s stable in Norfolk. Between seven and eight 

 o'clock in the morning the birds, between them, 

 broug'ht food twenty times an hour : but at a 

 corresponding period in the evening, when grubs 

 were no doubt scarcer and the energies of the 

 seekers somewhat diminished iVom prolonged exer 

 tion, they only entered their home at the rate of 

 twelve times an hour. These ])ir(ls had a pair of 

 neighbours just as hard at work feeding a large 



