18 
BY THE WAYSIDE 
tlie chick within its shell! IIow they 
trample on every egg in their way with 
their huge and clumsy boots! Onward 
they go, and when they leave the isle 
not an egg that they can find is left en¬ 
tire. The dead birds they collect and 
carry to their boat. Now they have 
regained their filthy shallop, they strip 
the birds by a single jerk of their 
feathery apparel, while the flesh is yet 
warm, and throw them on some coals, 
where in a short time they are broiled; 
the rum is produced when the guille¬ 
mots are fit for eating, and after stuf¬ 
fing themselves with this oily fare, and 
enjoying the pleasures of beastly in¬ 
toxication, over they tumble on the 
deck of their crazy craft, where they 
pass the short hours of night in turbid 
slumber. 
“The sun now rises above the snow- 
clad summit of the eastern mount; 
'sweet is the breath of morn’ even in 
this desolate land. The gay bunting 
erects his white crest, and gives utter¬ 
ance to the joy he feels in the presence 
of his brooding mate; the willow 
grouse on the rock crows his challenge 
aloud. Each floweret, chilled by the 
night air, expands its pure petals; the 
gentle breeze shakes from the blades of 
grass the heavy dewdrops. 
“On the guillemot isle the birds have 
again settled, and now renew their 
loves. Startled by the light of day, 
one of the eggers springs on his feet 
and rouses his companions, who stare 
around them for a while, endeavoring 
to recollect their senses. Mark them, 
as with clumsy fingers they clear their 
drowsy eyes; slowly they rise on then- 
feet. See how the lubbers stretch out 
their arms and yawn; you shrink back, 
for verily 'that throat might frighten 
a shark.’ But the master, soon recol¬ 
lecting that so many eggs are worth a 
dollar or a crown, casts his eye toward 
the rock, marks the day in his memory, 
and gives orders to depart. The light 
breeze enables them to reach another 
harbor a few miles distant—one which, 
like the last, lies concealed from the 
ocean by some other rocky isle. Ar¬ 
rived there, they re-enact the scene of 
yesterday, crushing every egg that 
they can find. 
“For a week each night is passed in 
drunkenness and brawls, until having 
reached the last breeding-place on the 
coast, they return, touch in every isle 
in succession, shoot as many birds as 
they need, collect the fresh eggs, and 
lay in a cargo. At every step each ruf¬ 
fian picks up an egg, so beautiful that 
any man with a feeling heart would 
pause to consider the motive which 
could induce him to carry it off. 
“But nothing of this sort occurs to 
the egger, who gathers and gathers un¬ 
til he has swept the rock bare. The 
dollars alone chink in his sordid mind, 
and he assiduously plies the trade 
which no man would ply who had the 
talents and industry to procure sub¬ 
sistence by honorable means.’ 
Mrs. L. M. Whitcomb of Albany, 
Wis., writes: “A flock of Purple 
Finches were frequently seen about the 
town from the twelfth of January last 
until about the first of April. They 
were in our yard several times in 
March in quite large flocks, often sing¬ 
ing on pleasant days. These were the 
first T have ever seen.” 
