No two sorts of birds practise quite the same sort of flight; the varieties are infinite; but two
classes may be roughly seen. Any ship that crosses the Pacific is accompanied for many days by the
smaller albatross. which may keep company with the vessel for an hour without visible or more than
occasional movement of wing. The currents of air that the walls of the ship direct upwards, as well
as in the line of its course, are enough to give the great bird withe its immense wings sufficient
sustenance and progress. The albatross is the king of the gliders, the class of fliers which harness
the air to their purpose, but must yield to its opposition. In the contrary school, the duck is
supreme. It comes nearer to the engines with which man has 'conquered' the air, as he boasts.
Duck, and like them the pigeons, are endowed with steel-like muscles, that are a good bore for long
distances through an opposing gale before exhaustion follows. Their humbler followers, such as
partridges, have a like power of strong propulsion, but soon tire. You may pick them up in utter
exhaustion, if wind over the sea has driven them to a long journey. The swallow shares the virtues
of both schools in highest measure. It tires not, nor does it boast of its power; but belongs to the
air, travelling it may be six thousand miles to and from its northern nesting home, feeding its
flown young as it flied. and slipping through a medium that seems to help its passage even when the
wind is adverse. Such birds so us good, though we no longer take omens from their flight on this
side and that' and even the most susperstitious villagers no longer take off their hats to the
magpie and wish it good-morning.