WOOD AND WASTE 75 



The old birds, far too little acquainted 

 with mankind, were very suspicious, and 

 circumperambulated my conning tower until 

 I felt that at any moment it might collapse 

 like the walls of Jericho. 



The male at times would execute a war 

 dance in front of the camera, hopping up 

 from the ground, suddenly flapping or 

 clapping his wings together and screaming. 

 The birds had detected either the small 

 differences between the false and real lens, 

 or else heard me, though I hardly dared 

 breathe, much less move. A bad screen is 

 bad economy in the long run, for good 

 work cannot be done in very great discom- 

 fort, and I was penned in a two by three 

 bamboo screen like Cardinal Balue in the 

 torture cage of his own invention, unable to 

 lie down, sit, or stand. 



I have committed crimes in my life I 

 know. Who hasn't? But I believe expia- 

 tion may have been accomplished during 

 those hours of anguish, kneeling on a water- 

 proof and slowly sinking into the ooze. 

 Perhaps in the last great drafting, when St. 

 Peter races off the just — whom I take to 



