FAIR ORMOND 141 



so that half the time they were invisible, lost 

 in the trough of the sea; moving always in 

 Indian file, flapping their wings and scaling by 

 turns. And still another remembrancer of my 

 previous visit to this part of Florida was the 

 sight of a bald eagle robbing a fishhawk. The 

 hawk made a stubborn defense, dodging this way 

 and that, rising and falling, but in the end the 

 eagle, an old white-headed fellow, was more than 

 a match for his victim ; for though they were 

 far away, the motions of the contestants showed 

 plainly enough how the struggle terminated. 



On the beach, halfway to his knees in water, 

 stood a great blue heron, leaning seaward, wait- 

 ing for a fish. He might have been standing 

 there for nine years. At all events I left him 

 in the same position that length of time ago. 

 "Ay, and you," he might rejoin, "you haven't 

 changed, either. You have still nothing better 

 to do than to go wandering up and down the 

 earth, shooting birds with an opera-glass ? " 

 True enough. Heron and man, after nine years 

 each is the same old sixpence. " The thing that 

 hath been it is that which shall be, and there is 

 nothing new under the sun." Well, so be it. 

 Only let me find new pleasure in the old places 

 and the old pursuits. 



