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red speckles, on which she is sitting, I take her in my hands to

admire her beauty.


The small black bill is opened to eject with a sudden spurt

some greenish oil, which action is repeated as, on loosing the

bird from my grasp, she flits rapidly across the shore twisting

and turning in her flight from one side to another until she

reaches the ocean’s surface, over which, with Swallow - like

motions, she is quickly lost to view.


It was uncourteous to have disturbed her and her mate,

whom I found behind a large stone not a foot from where her

egg was laid, and who in his turn was lifted up in brief captivity

to be granted the freedom on the briny waves for which he was

struggling.


In the ordinal course of their daily life they would have

sat snugly under the rocks in the semi-darkness until the sun

had neared the horizon and was sinking in a splendour of

golden glory, lighting up the waves as they rolled on and on in

ever-widening grandeur, until with a roar they were broken one

by one against massive rocks and granite boulders.


Like the Petrels, we lingered until the day was dying,

before we too were launched over the waves on our homeward

voyage, leaving regretfully the interests and beauties of the

sea-birds’ isle.



A WALK IN THE “ JARDIN D’ACCLIMATATION ”


OF PARIS.


By O. Ernest Cressweee.


No aviculturist should lose an opportunity of seeing the

Jardin d’Acclimatation of Paris. I have often been astonished

to meet people who think they know Paris well, and yet have

never been through these charming Gardens. Situated as they

are, just within the Bois de Boulogne, and just outside the Porte

Maillot, which is reached through the Arc de Triomphe by

probably the most striking avenue in any European capital, they

may well be taken at the beginning or end of a drive in the

fashionable Bois. The real lover of birds will, like myself,

hardly be satisfied with such a visit by the way, but will find

much to occupy him for a long morning, if not for a long

afternoon too. An omnibus from the Rue de Rivoli takes one

to the Porte Maillot, whence it is but a few steps across the

broad avenue to the station of the Miniature Tramway; this, at



