Py tele. SHEELANDS 189 
hour or so, and a wretched sort of day altogether. 
Getting to bed at last—for cooking takes a woful time 
—TI turn to the British Bird-book again ; and reading 
there about the plaintive cry of the young guillemot 
for food reminds me that I have not once heard 
either of my two little birds utter a syllable—at least, 
not to be sure. Once I thought I caught a very faint 
thin note, such as most young birds utter, but that 
was the only time. When I was here before, too, at a 
time when there were numbers of young birds on the 
ledges, I never noticed this cry, so find it difficult to 
believe that it ever attracted the attention of the 
French sailors sufficiently to make them name these 
birds “ guillemots ” in imitation of it, as is here sug- 
gested. To judge by all I have seen, the young 
guillemot is the most contented little thing, and 
generally squats asleep under the wing of the one 
parent, till the other brings it a fish, when it comes 
out, swallows it, swells, preens itself, and goes back to 
““seepy-by ” again, like Stella. 
