At the Water’s Edge 
of grayish brown. Any thus colored are im- 
mature birds of the first year. But in all the 
large flocks I have seen in winter, the dark 
specimens are so exceptional, that I infer that, 
being younger and less hardy, they migrate 
farther south in winter. 
Two magnificent great fellows, the largest of 
the family, are the glaucous gull, living far to 
the north, with this same light-blue mantle, 
and no black on the wing-tips; and its more 
southern congener, the black-backed gull, cov- 
ered with dark slate, like a pall, which accounts 
for its gruesome epithet of ‘‘coffin-carrier.’’ It 
is not infrequently to be seen hereabouts, and 
is, with perhaps one exception, the most majes- 
tic sea bird that we have. One of the most 
beautiful species is the ivory gull, pure white, 
and perhaps the largest aérial white specimen 
in existence. Being a resident of the polar 
regions, it can very seldom be seen, except by 
those hardy and valiant scientists who periodi- 
cally tempt Providence by making a trip in 
quest of the mythical terminus of our terres- 
trial axis. In Audubon’s interesting account 
of his experience in Labrador in summer, where 
he made a study of the herring gulls, he speaks 
of their ingenuity in extracting mollusks from 
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