Or slowly wheeled across the unclouded sky.

RICHARD WATSON GILDER.

II.

BIRD-STUDY IN A SOUTHERN STATE.

The most interesting experience in several years of bird-study was a
trip to a Southern State for the purpose of making acquaintance with the
mocking-bird.

Adventures began before the lights of New York sank below the horizon;
adventures more strange than agreeable, for the journey was by steamer.
Hardly had we passed out of the bay when there began a gentle roll which
speedily sent passengers to bed. When we passed Long Branch the motion
was a steady rock from side to side, that made one feel like a baby in a
cradle, and before bedtime it was a violent swing that flung one about
like a toy, and tossed the furniture around like doll-house belongings.

Holding on to the side of the berth with both hands, I passed the night
listening to the labored strokes of the engine and the crashing of the
loosened freight in the hold, and entertained by the eccentric conduct
of the loose articles in my state-room, a trunk, chair, life-preserver,
plate, saucer, and teaspoon, which with one accord, and in spite of all
I could do by most ingenious wedging, joined in a peculiar dance between
the outer wall and the inner partition of my room. At one moment they
rested quietly in their several ways, against the wall; the steamer
lurched, and all started madly across the floor, the heavy things first,
and the lighter bringing up the rear, each banging violently against the
partition, with thump, rattle, or jingle according to its nature, then
in a moment dashing back so furiously that I feared to see the thin
planks yield and my trunk go out to sea by itself. Not that I cared for
my trunk--my life was the subject that interested me at the time.
Outside, too, the doors and blinds rattled, the tiller-chain chattered
and wailed and sobbed like a woman in distress, and above all other
sounds rose the dismal fog horn, for a pall of mist had settled over us.

Day differed from night only in being light, for the sole prospect from
the guards was one moment the fog above, where the sky should be, the
next the depths of the sea yawning as if to receive the ship into its
bosom. In this manner, during two days and three nights, we rolled on to
our destination, and for days after my feet touched blessed Mother Earth
I reeled and staggered like a drunken man.

After the storm, the calm. There followed upon this rough voyage