Ill THE DABCHICKS. 1 67 



Hartwig's miscellany being a favourite — what 

 can I call it, sand-hill? — of my own, out of which 

 -fevery now and then, in a rasorial manner, I 

 can scratch some savoury or useful contents ; 

 — one or two, it may be remembered, I col- 

 lected for the behoof of the Bishop of Man- 

 chester, on this very subject, {Contemporary 

 Review^ Feb. 1880); and some of Mr. Hart- 

 wig's half-sandy, half-soppy, poHtical opinions, 

 are offered to the consideration of the British 

 workman in the last extant number of * Fors.' 

 Touching eider ducks, I find in his fifth 

 chapter — on Iceland — he quotes the following 

 account, by Mr. Shepherd, of the shore of the 

 island of ' Isafjardarjup ' — a word which seems 

 to contain in itself an introduction to Icelandic 

 literature : — 



1 27. " The ducks and their nests were every- 

 where, in a manner that was quite alarming. 

 Great brown ducks sat upon their nests in 

 masses, and at every step started up from 

 under our feet. It was with difficulty that we 

 avoided treading on some of the nests. The 

 island being but three-quarters of a mile in 

 width, the opposite shore was soon reached. 

 On the coast was a wall built of large stones. 



