"It is indeed an interesting sight to observe these little birds in a gale, coursing over the waves, down the declivities, up the ascents of the foaming surf that threatens to bend over their head; sweeping along through the hollow troughs of the sea, as in a sheltered valley, and again mounting with the rising billow, and just above its surface, occasionally dropping their feet, which, striking the water, throws the birds up again with additional force; sometimes leaping, with both legs parallel, on the surface of the roughest wave for several yards at a time. Meanwhile they continue coursing from side to side of the ship's wake, making excursions far and wide, to the right and to the left, now a great way ahead, and now shooting astern for several hundred yards, returning again to the ship, as if she were all the time stationary, though perhaps running at the rate of ten knots an hour! But the most singular peculiarity of this bird is its faculty of standing and even running on the surface of the water, which it performs with apparent facility. When any greasy matter is thrown overboard these birds instantly collect around it, and face to windward, with their long wings expanded and their webbed feet patting the water, which the lightness of their bodies and the action of the wind on their wings enable them to do with ease. In calm weather they perform the same maneuver by keeping their wings just so much in action as to prevent their feet from sinking below the surface." Rev. Mr. Eaton says that this species nests under large rocks not far from the beach. Egg, one, white. THE STORMY PETREL. A thousand miles from land are we, Tossing about on the stormy sea-- From billow to bounding billow cast, Like fleecy snow on the stormy blast. The sails are scattered abroad like weeds, The strong masts shake like quivering reeds; The mighty cables and iron chains, The hull--which all earthly strength disdains-- They strain and they crack, and hearts like stone Their natural, hard, proud strength disown. Up and down!--up and down! From the base of the wave to the billow's crown, And amidst the flashing and feathery foam The Stormy Petrel finds a home-- A home, if such a place may be For her who lives on the wide, wide sea. On the craggy ice, in the frozen air, And only seeketh her rocky lair To warn her young and teach them to spring At once o'er the waves on their stormy wing! O'er the deep!--o'er the deep! Where the whale and the shark and the sword fish sleep-- Out-flying the blast and the driving rain, The Petrel telleth her tale--in vain; For the mariner curseth the warning bird Which bringeth him news of the storm unheard! Ah! thus does the prophet of good or ill Meet hate from the creatures he serveth still; Yet he ne'er falters--so, Petrel, spring Once more o'er the waves on thy stormy wing!