Perpetual Motion 375 



of Procellaria, and besides quite contrary to my usual 

 rule, I gladly return to the Mother Carey's Chicken 

 biographically, giving first of all some few details of my 

 own personal acquaintance with them, ever gratefully 

 remembered. How timidly on my first voyage did 

 I ask the mate, a big gruff Norwegian, what those 

 pretty little birds were. How could I tell that I was 

 committing a serious breach of etiquette ? He re- 

 plied very gruffly and unintelligibly, ' Stern Fitter.' 

 I ventured to say, ' What ? ' and was at once bidden 

 to ' shut up ' and look out for myself, as if he had 

 been insulted by my not understanding him. I took 

 the hint and asked no more, nor did I learn that ' those 

 little birds ' were Stormy Petrels for a very long time, 

 although, like other sailors, I of course knew them as 

 Mother Carey's Chickens. 



But they were always a source of never-ending 

 delight to me while at sea, and of wonder too, for I 

 could not help feeling that they had indeed solved 

 the great problem of perpetual motion ; never needing 

 or desiring rest apparently, and always sticking to 

 the same ship to which they had taken a fancy in 

 calm or storm, whether flying before a gale or stag- 

 nating through many days of windlessness, as was 

 common with the old sailing-ships. I was glad to 

 see how the sailors generally regarded them as birds 

 of good omen, and in nowise to be meddled with. 

 Indeed, in my day not a few seamen really looked 

 upon them as the spirits of departed sailors, who, 

 never weary, flitted over the bright pure sea eternally. 

 But then many seamen thus ngarded the albatross 

 also, yet I never saw the same sincere reluctance 

 to do them harm as was always evinced towards 

 the Stormy Petrel. 



Once I saw a man, a second mate, wearying for 



