62 
THE NORTHLAND BIRD LIFE 
Loon. Perhaps it was because Baby had 
peeped out from beneath Mrs. Laughing 
Loon’s heavy bathing suit first of all, and 
perhaps it was because the very first thing 
she had ever done was to become lost from 
her mother, and narrowly escape a sudden 
death. However that may have been, Mrs. 
Laughing Loon always found time out of 
each busy day to teach Baby some new thing 
about the sand bar, the ocean, or the tundra. 
“Today,” she said, as she smoothed Baby’s 
fuzzy-wuzzy, wooly-cotton bathing suit out 
very carefully, “today you must learn to 
play submarine.” 
“Play submarine?” exclaimed Little Baby 
Laughing Loon, as she frolicked with joy at 
the thought of some new game to be learned, 
“How do you play submarine”? 
“Not so fast,” warned the mother, as 
Baby tumbled head over heels down a sand 
bank. “You’ll have to go to the ocean to 
learn to play submarine, and though it is 
a very fine game it is a hard one to learn 
