o We do like late suppers-— 
woke to life and the young began to move about. First one and 
then another lurches unsteadily across the eyrie. But for their 
heads, they look, with their yellow claws, like hunchbacked, 
speckled farmyard fowls. Only their thighs are downy now, and 
with their great, dark, solemn eyes and formidable beaks each looks 
like a caricature of Mr. Gladstone in short cotton drawers. Their 
home a slaughter-house, where every meal entails a bird tragedy, 
there is a grim humour in their appearance. They are evidently 
getting hungry, for presently a big female routs out a bloody skull 
from somewhere behind the rocks and, holding it under her talons, 
tears at it for some time and then tries to swallow it. Failing in 
this, she puts it down and tries to reduce its size. One of the others 
THE LORDS OF APPEAL EIGHTEEN DAYS OLD. 
Light 8, Plate speed 250, Subject number 100, Stop F8, Exposure 1-25sec. 
