sitting birds have their beaks pointed towards the cliff, whilst the standing ones are turned indifferently. There are generally several birds on the edge of the parapet, and at intervals one will come pressing to it through the crowd in order to fly down to the sea, whilst from time to time, also, others fly up and alight upon it, often with sand-eels in their beaks. On a ledge of, perhaps, some dozen or so paces in length, there may be from sixty to eighty guillemots, and as often as they are counted the number will be found to be approximately the same.
Most of the sitting birds are either incubating or have young ones under them, which, as long as they are little, they seem to treat very much as though they were eggs. Others, however, when they stand up are seen to have nothing underneath them, for as with other sea-birds, so far as I have been able to observe, there seems to be a great disparity in the time at which different individuals begin to lay. In the case of the puffin, for instance, some birds may be seen collecting grass and taking it to their burrows, whilst others are bringing in a regular supply of fish to their young. Much affection is shown between the paired birds. One that is sitting either on her egg or young one—for no difference in the attitude can be discovered—will often be very much cosseted by the partner who stands close behind or beside her. With the tip of his long, pointed beak he, as it were, nibbles the feathers (or perhaps, rather, scratches and tickles the skin between them) of her head, neck, and throat, whilst she, with her eyes half closed, and an expression as of submitting to an enjoyment—a "Well, I suppose
