THE BRUM AND THE OOLOGIST.
[Mr. W. JAMES asked the LORD ADVOCATE whether his attention had been called to a circular, issued from Birmingham by the Naturalists' Publishing Company, inviting applications for shares in "An Oological Expedition to the land of the Great Auk," meaning the Shetland Isles, and stating that, "if the season is a pretty fair one, a haul of at least twenty thousand eggs" of rare sea-birds might be expected.—Daily Paper.]
The "Brum" and the Oologist
Were walking hand in hand;
They grinned to see so many birds
On cliff, and rock, and sand.
"If we could only get their eggs,"
Said they, "it would be grand."
"If we should start a Company
To gather eggs all day,
Do you suppose," the former said,
"That we could make it pay?"
"We might," said the Oologist,
"On the promoting lay!"
"Then you've a tongue, and I a ship,
Likewise some roomy kegs;
And you might lead the birds a dance
Upon their ugly legs;
And, when you've got them out of sight,
I'll steal their blooming eggs."
"Oh, Sea-birds," said the Midland man,
"Let's take a pleasant walk!
Perhaps among you we may find
The Great—or lesser—Auk;
And you might possibly enjoy
A scientific talk."
The skuas and the cormorants,
And all the puffin clan,
The stormy petrels, gulls, and terns,
They hopped, and skipped, and ran
With very injudicious speed
To join that oily man.
"The time has come," remarked the Brum,
"For 'talking without tears'
Of birds unhappily extinct,
Yet known in former years;
And how much cash an egg will fetch
In Naturalistic spheres."
"But not our eggs!" replied the birds,
Feeling a little hot.
"You surely would not rob our nests
After this pleasant trot?"
The Midland man said nothing but,—
"I guess he's cleared the lot!"
"Well!" said that bland Oologist,
"We've had a lot of fun.
Next year, perhaps, these Shetland birds
We'll visit—with a gun;
When—as we've taken all their eggs—
There'll probably be none!"