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scene. Two old gannets perched on the rock beside each other 
and near me. Two human beings could not have greeted one 
another in a more friendly and sociable way, they exchanged 
kisses by touching beaks, they sat down together, and for some 
minutes were as amicable as possible. But, unfortunately, one of 
them espied a large piece of seaweed. Ah ! fatal find ! It is the 
brand of discord. No longer are they a happy pair. There is no 
more kissing, but in lieu of that one tweaks the other’s beak with 
such force as he is capable of ; all their fury is aroused, and now they 
bristle like a pair of gladiators. Each one looks, as he takes hold of 
an end of the disputed piece of seaweed, as if he meant it to be no 
tournament but a mortal conflict. They lug, they tug, they strain 
their sinewy muscles. For some moments neither seems to get a 
decided advantage, but finally the stronger of the two drags off the 
seaweed. It teas astonishing what a little thing would provoke a 
light. The arrival of a fresh comer was a sure signal for a combat, 
for sometimes it would be necessary to secure a seat for himself by 
pushing some brother gannet off. Instantly war is declared, and 
the two arc at it tooth and nail. The arena is small, and the 
fight is often hard. They are sure to get too near the brink, and 
in a twinkling they are dashed over the precipice. It is too late 
for them to part now — they are locked in an unfriendly embraco 
from which neither can extricate himself, until with a resounding 
splash they hit the water. But these tough gannets are used of 
old to high descent, and arc none the worse for their fall. In the 
water they are very bulldogs for not letting go. I saw one take 
another by the beak and spin him round, until the white foam 
frothed and bubbled, and the surge was lashed on high, by 
their pinions. I watched this pair frantically spinning round 
and round, like an everlasting top, in their mighty tussle, for 
a long time, until I got tired of looking any longer, and lying 
back on the grass, I resigned myself to my meditations and a 
pipe.* Had I remembered them, I might have appropriately 
* I was much amused to learn that the pipe I was smoking was made of 
a gannet’s bone. The lessee has had frequent applications from tobacconists 
to supply them, which he has done, at the rate of three a penny. They are 
the lesser wing-bone, and are made into stems, and with a bit of cork at one 
end are retailed at threepence each. 
Q Q 
