62 Aboiit the Feathered Folk. 



But the sea comes dashing sa- 

 vagely over the fringes of the shore, 

 and the surf breaks for ever against 

 the rocks. 



It is enough, quite enough, to 

 make a three-months-old Penguin 

 nervous. 



Trust themselves, and those new, 

 shining feathers of theirs, into that 

 white flurry of water how is it 

 possible ? 



The old birds insist not on the 

 possibility only, but upon the ne- 

 cessity. They coax the trembling 

 youngsters to the edge of a rock, 

 and coming slyly behind them, push 

 them over into the sea. It is worse 

 treachery than that of any old 

 Ramsgate bathing-woman ! One can 

 fancy the fright, and the gasping, 

 the hoarse screams of piteous re- 

 monstrance ; also the parent-birds' 

 matter-of-fact way of coming to the 

 rescue, showing how the fin-wings 

 are to be used; how the oar-like 



