GUILLEMOT, LITTLE AUK, RAZOR-BILL, PUFFIN 285 



The Little Auk is at home on the waves ; he is 

 not much larger than a Quail, a small, plump, active 

 Harlequin, in a suit of black and white. The only 

 adjective that seems appropriate to him as he goes 

 scooting over the water, or when he sits up at 

 times, is that of funny ; a frog in a brown study, 

 looking hard at nothing, is not to be compared with 

 the Little Auk for quaintness. Yet wave-dweller 

 that he is, the elements at times are too much for 

 him, and he and his get blown off the surface of 

 the waters, like leaves in fall-time, when the wind 

 rushes through the woodlands. Storms from the 

 north-east and from north-north-east, when lifeboats 

 are not able at all times to reach a vessel before 

 she founders with all hands, are bad for sea-fowl. 

 When Petrels flicker round gas-lamps, and drop on 

 the pavement, or are caught by hand as they flick 

 and flutter, then the Little Auk, Sea Dove, or Little 

 Guillemot is found sitting on a doorstep, lost in 

 wonder and amazement at its strancre surroundinofs. 



One of the forms of supplications taught me in 

 childhood by women who had lost husbands and 

 sons, "gone down," has often since then rushed 

 involuntarily to my lips — "God help all at sea!" 

 Common humanity suffers at such times, and so 

 do other creatures, and thev will continue to. This 

 little humpty-dumpty of a diver has been found on 

 furze commons, blown there by gales much against 

 the poor little creature's will. If it was possible for 

 him to live there, no doubt after a time, according to 

 evolutionary theories, he might develop into a Quail. 



