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Amongst our water-loving birds there are few that can rival the great Northern Diver. He is strong of wing, with remarkable legs and feet, and a body so formed that it can take in a wonderful amount of air. He is a beautiful bird, too, and a glance at him gives you the impression that he is very knowing--as is, indeed, the fact. He has not a tuneful voice, for he does not belong to the singing birds, but he utters a plaintive and wild cry, which seems to suit the regions that are usually his home.
For, though the species does not keep entirely to the cold northern regions, where summer is brief and winter is long, they are his chief resorts, and their loneliness seems to suit him. He has often been seen along British sh.o.r.es, in the Firth of Forth, for instance, and upon the coast of Wales and Ireland. But if you wish to see the great northern diver in abundance, you must go beyond the Hebrides, towards Labrador, Iceland, and Spitzbergen. Nature has provided the bird with the means of obtaining a great amount of animal heat, which enables him to bear comfortably the intense cold of arctic regions.
A solitary specimen often attracts the notice of those on board pa.s.sing ships. They observe on a headland this tall, gaunt, white-breasted sea-bird, motionless, it may be, yet looking round sharply with his keen eyes. Is he thinking of the family cares of the last season, or considering where the next meal is to come from? Suddenly he moves and darts towards the sea, into which he plunges. Two or three minutes after, he reappears many yards away. He has probably been fishing. He seems to know before entering the water what the fish are doing, and the formation of his body and limbs makes him a capital diver. It is the habit of the Northern Diver to seek out especially the shoals of herrings and sprats, of which both young and old birds consume great quant.i.ties. There is only one brood yearly, the young birds hatching during the brief summer of the far north.
The bird's head and neck are black, the bill being strong and pointed at the tip. The breast is white, but the back, tail, and legs are black, with scattered white spots; its feet are webbed. Though his wings are short, and his body appears heavy, the Northern Diver can fly powerfully and swiftly, owing to the strength of his muscles. The body, too, is smooth and rounded, adapted either for swimming or flying. Another name for it is the Immer, or Immer Diver.
J. R. S. C.
ENCOURAGEMENT.
Be as encouraging as you can. There is no end to the good sometimes done by a few kindly words.
When Sydney Smith was a boy at school, a visitor found him one day, in the play-hour, poring over a lesson-book. 'Clever boy!' said the stranger, as he bestowed a shilling upon the young student, 'that is the way to conquer the world.'
This bit of encouragement brightened the neglected boy's life like a ray of sunshine. That kind man was not forgotten by Sydney Smith, who was never weary of praising his deed. Little dreamed the stranger, as he went his way, of the great good effected by his pleasant words. The lad whom he had encouraged rose soon afterwards to be prefect of his school, and, as we know, became in after years a very distinguished man, and possibly the first real start he had in life was this little piece of encouragement.
E. D.
TRAVELLERS' TALES.
They say there is a country where snowstorms never fall, And sliding is a game they never knew: They never saw a lake Paved with ice that wouldn't break-- I would rather stay in England, wouldn't you?
They say there is a country where the bright sun never sets, But still continues shining all night through; And you needn't go to bed, For there's always light o'er head-- That's a country I should like, wouldn't you?
They say there is a country where the people all talk French-- I can't imagine what they ever do!
For who amid their chatter Could understand such patter?
I should answer 'Speak in English,' wouldn't you?
They say there is a country where the women cannot walk, And everything is made out of bamboo, And the people's eyes are wee, And they live on rice and tea-- I should like to go and see them, wouldn't you?
They say there is a country where the elephants are wild, And never even heard about our Zoo; And through the woods they roam Like gentlemen at home-- I should like to go and see them, wouldn't you?
F. W. H.
THE BOY TRAMP.
(_Continued from page 127._)
After a few minutes' useless waiting, and wishing that I might have accompanied Jacintha and d.i.c.k into the house, I turned my back towards Colebrook Park and set out in the direction of the town, which I entered by a steep hill. The hill brought me into the middle of the High Street, at about half-past four in the afternoon, and my attention was soon absorbed by the fresh surroundings. In the street was a constant stream of well-dressed persons, there were good shops, many carriages, and I stood at the corner wondering which way to turn. Every now and then I put my hand into my pocket to make certain the money was safe, and at last I began to feel a certain sense of recklessness, as if I had now the power to launch out into extravagance. To tell the truth it seemed difficult to be in possession of such a sum without immediately looking out for something to buy, and indeed there were several things I could have added to my stock with advantage.
On the left I came to the railway station; the line pa.s.sed over the road, and beyond it the High Street sloped steeply upwards. At the top of the hill I saw some public baths. Noticing on the opposite side of the way a large shop with cheap clothing in the window, I entered and made my first purchase, which consisted of a pair of stockings and some shoes--of brown canvas, because these were the cheapest. Carrying my parcel, I entered the baths, and came forth feeling much cleaner and more presentable.
I next treated myself to an egg for tea, with ample bread and b.u.t.ter and a cup of cocoa, and then I thought it high time to seek a place in which to sleep. In speaking of an hotel, I had in my mind a Temperance Hotel, although I had not entered into details before d.i.c.k; but, as I walked away from the tea-shop, exploring small streets, I pa.s.sed a tailor's, where a man was seated cross-legged on a board, busily st.i.tching. In the window was a card bearing the inscription, 'Bedroom to let to a single man,' and then a happy idea occurred to me.
My clothes were sadly in need of repair, my jacket being torn and stained, and my knickerbockers requiring a patch on the right knee. Now, I thought, if I engage a bed at the tailor's, he might consent to repair my suit while I occupy it. So I opened the door and entered the warm, moist air of the shop, with an inquiry about the bedroom, whereupon the tailor gazed at me doubtfully a moment and shouted for 'Emma!'
She was a pleasant-looking woman with a baby in her arms, and a second child clinging to her skirts, and she also seemed to regard me suspiciously.
'I want a room for one night,' I explained, and then she glanced at her husband.
'Got any money to pay for it?' he demanded.
'Rather,' I said. 'I can pay you first if you like.'
'Well, that is what I _should_ like,' he answered. 'Show the room, Emma.'
She took me upstairs to a clean but poorly-furnished room, for which she demanded a shilling, but after some conversation she agreed to supply me with a good breakfast the next morning for one and ninepence. With this offer I closed, and then, having given her one of my sovereigns, she took me downstairs again to ask her husband for the change. When I had counted this, I broached the subject of my clothes, suggesting that I would go to bed at once if he would put them in good order by to-morrow morning. We made a bargain for two and sixpence, and this sum I paid also; then I turned into bed as soon as Emma had prepared the room. But for some time I could not feel inclined to sleep, lying there thinking of the time I had spent with d.i.c.k and Jacintha, and trying to decide about the future.
Before closing my eyes I came to one determination. The first thing to-morrow morning I would walk to the railway station and inquire the cost of a third-cla.s.s ticket to London. With so much money in my pocket, it seemed folly to walk the rest of the distance, and the sooner I reached my destination the sooner I should begin my real career.
My last waking thought that night was of Captain Knowlton, but in spite of d.i.c.k's hopefulness it seemed impossible to believe that by any chance my friend could be still living. For a few moments I exercised my imagination, I built air castles, and pictured his reappearance on the scene. I saw myself again at some other school, mixing once more with the fellows on an equality: I saw myself going in due course to Sandhurst, with d.i.c.k as my companion; I saw myself a guest at his house during the holidays, discussing with Jacintha the experiences through which I was at present pa.s.sing. Whether or not I was awake when I fancied these things, or my last thoughts melted into dreams, I have not the remotest notion, but I knew nothing else until Emma knocked at my door at eight the following morning, laying down my clothes outside, and then all the pictures my imagination had painted appeared unreal and extremely tantalising.
There was a small looking-gla.s.s on the bare wooden dressing-table, and by its aid I saw that the tailor had given me good value for my money.
Feeling quite respectable with the new stockings and shoes and the renovated suit, I determined to improve matters further by accepting Jacintha's hint and having my hair cut.
During breakfast I realised that the day was Sat.u.r.day, and that if I travelled to London, it would not be practicable to take any steps towards finding employment until Monday. As I was at present in cheap and comfortable quarters, it seemed judicious to remain over Sunday, especially as there would be a chance of seeing d.i.c.k and his sister once more before I left Hazleton.
Having made a satisfactory arrangement with Emma, I went to the nearest hairdresser's; and afterwards bought for two and fourpence a white flannel shirt with a collar attached. Then, turning my steps to the railway station, found that the price of a third-cla.s.s ticket to London was five shillings and threepence, and that there were several trains during the morning.
When I had returned home to change my shirt, I wandered along the road in the direction of Colebrook Park, but pa.s.sed the lodge gates several times without the satisfaction of seeing any sign of Jacintha or her brother. Later in the day rain began to fall again, and continued until bedtime, throughout the night, and through the whole of Sunday, so that I only went out to church in the morning, and spent a far from unpleasant afternoon listening to stories from Emma's husband. It appeared that he had been a soldier, and pa.s.sed through an Egyptian campaign, to the success of which, according to his own account, he must to no mean extent have contributed. In the evening I went again to the church a few doors off. On Monday, seeing that the sun was shining, I determined to make one more effort to see d.i.c.k or Jacintha before setting out to London. The walk to Colebrook Park, where I hung about for an hour or more, proved again entirely unavailing, however, and turning towards the railway station, I changed another sovereign for a ticket, and reached the platform ten minutes before the half-past eleven train was due.
CHAPTER XVI.
While waiting for the train, I took the opportunity to count my money, and finding how rapidly it had diminished, almost regretted the determination to travel luxuriously by the railway, instead of walking the rest of the distance to London. But, on the other hand, it appeared highly desirable to present a respectable appearance when at last I began to look for work in earnest. I had learned enough since leaving Castlemore to understand that it would not do to be too particular as to the nature of such employment, but that it could be possible to search in vain scarcely seemed to me likely.
There being few pa.s.sengers, I entered an empty third-cla.s.s compartment, and began to eat some meat patties which I had bought on the way from Colebrook Park. At the first stoppage a middle-aged woman entered the compartment, taking a seat by the farther window, but at Midbrook, about three-quarters of the way to London, we were joined by a man, who lowered himself gently into the seat facing my own, with his face towards the engine.
He looked sixty years of age, or perhaps somewhat older, and had one of the most benevolent-looking faces I had ever seen. He was clean shaven, and he wore a tall black hat. His long frock coat was made of shiny black cloth, with a waistcoat to match, and grey trousers. He exposed a large amount of white shirt-front, and wore a neatly-tied narrow black bow; indeed, he looked noticeably neat and well-brushed from top to toe.
But, although he was so well dressed that I felt surprised at his travelling third-cla.s.s, he had the appearance of a highly respectable, old-fashioned butler out for a holiday, rather than a gentleman. A pair of double eye-gla.s.ses hung from a broad black ribbon, and he sat with both hands resting on the k.n.o.b of his umbrella as he gazed benevolently into my face.
'I wonder,' he suggested, soon after the train had restarted, 'whether you would object to changing sides with me?'