"It shall be a tale of that description, if you like," said the old lady, after a pause, "but, as I said, the main incidents are true." "And the white-winged creatures?" Ida asked. "Were they fairies?" "No, my love; birds. But if to see snowy albatrosses with their huge white wings wheeling in circles about a vessel sailing in mid ocean be anything like what I have read of and heard described, fairyland could hardly show anything more beautiful and impressive." "Do they fly near ships, then?" Ida asked. "Yes, my child. I remember my husband describing them to me as he had once seen them in southern seas. He said that when he saw them, great, white, and majestic, holding no intercourse with anyone on board the ship, and yet spreading their wings above her day and night for hundreds of miles over the ocean, with folded feet, the huge white pinions, except for an occasional flap, outstretched in steady sail, never resting, and seemingly never weary, they looked like guardian angels keeping watch over the crew." "I wonder if they are sorry for the ships that go down?" said Ida, thoughtfully. Mrs. Overtheway took her hand. "Do you think it unkind in me to talk of ships, my love?" she asked. "No, no, no!" Ida exclaimed, "I don't mind _your_ talking about it. I wish I could talk to the birds that saw papa's ship go down, if there were any, and ask them how it was, and if he minded it much, and if he remembered me. I used to wish I had been with him, and one night I dreamed about it; but when the water touched me, I was frightened, and screamed, and woke; and then I was glad I hadn't been there, for perhaps he wouldn't have loved me so much if he had seen that I wasn't brave." The little old lady kissed her tenderly. "And now the story, please," said Ida, after a pause. And Mrs. Overtheway began the following story: KERGUELEN'S LAND. "'Down in the deep, with freight and crew, Past any help she lies, And never a bale has come to shore Of all thy merchandise. 'For cloth o' gold and comely frieze,' Winstanley said, and sigh'd, 'For velvet coif, or costly coat, They fathoms deep may bide. 'O thou, brave skipper, blithe and kind, O mariners bold and true, Sorry at heart, right sorry am I, A-thinking of yours and you.'" "WINSTANLEY" (JEAN INGELOW). "Father Albatross had been out all day, and was come home to the island which gives its name to this story. He had only taken a short flight, for his wife was hatching an egg, and he kept comparatively near the island where her nest was situated. There was only one egg, but parental affection is not influenced by numbers. There is always love enough for the largest family, and everything that could be desired in an only child, and Mother Albatross was as proud as if she had been a hen sitting on a dozen.