412 The Frigate Bird 



and afterwards the strange nomadic existence of the 

 London streets, and here I was in fairyland. Ah, 

 there was nothing of the nil admirari about me. Only 

 one thing was wanting, the coping-stone of all real 

 enjoyment, some one to share it with me. But in 

 this imperfect world the ideal is always just beyond 

 our reach, and my already great happiness was by 

 just that much incomplete. 



Another thing I noticed, the pathos of which com- 

 pletely reversed the severe judgment I had already 

 passed upon these birds for what I considered their 

 really infamous behaviour towards the poor boobies, 

 the mournful closing-in of their lives. And as I have 

 never since seen any sea-birds under the same con- 

 ditions, the extreme characteristic impression still 

 remains with me, not to be obliterated or even altered 

 in any way. On many of the rock points around sat 

 Frigate Birds, whose active life was over. Some grim 

 disability had seized them, rendering them unable 

 any longer to soar on high in proud superiority, 

 monarchs of the tropical skies over the sea. There 

 was for them no help, none of their kind came to feed 

 them or sympathise with them, just contemptuous 

 neglect was accorded to them. They could not be 

 said to have any enemies ; yes, perhaps one, the 

 wonderful tenacity with which life clung to them. 



Oh, the pity of it ; after such a life as theirs to sit 

 through the bright day and the sweet night doomed 

 irrevocably to die, but unable to reach that blessed 

 change except through the long agony of waiting ! 

 Their feathers hung limply down, their useless wings 

 trailed, the joints gleaming whitely through. Those 

 once piercing eyes were glazed, the proud heads 

 drooped, and only the slightest motion, a sort of 

 shudder, showed that they were conscious of my 



