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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
29
June
6.
Our
egg-collecting
with
the
Lighthouse
Keepers.
They
walk
about
the
cliffs
as
surefooted
as
cats,
and
feed
their
dogs
on
birds'
eggs
collected
in
a
little
bag
at
the
end
of
a
long
pole.
One
dog
ate
three
right
off
in
as
many
minutes,
putting
his
teeth
through
and
cracking
the
shell,
then
lapping
up
the
contents.
Crab
for
tea.
June
7.
After
a
glorious
day
at
the
N.
end
of
the
Island
with
the
Puffins,
was
forced
to-night
to
take
another
walk,
as
the
smell
of
Albert's
tobacco,
together
with
that
of
his
stockinged
feet
and
his
boots
removed,
was
asphyxiating.
June
9.
The
governess
is
an
awfully
pretty
girl.
We
have
been
talking
together
to-day
and
she
asked
me
if
I
were
a
naturalist.
I
said
"Yes."
She
said,
"Well,
I
found
a
funny
little
beetle
yesterday
and
Mr.
S----
said
I
ought
to
have
given
it
to
you."
Later,
I
felt
she
was
looking
at
me,
so
I
looked
at
her,
across
the
beach.
Yes!
it
was
true.
When
our
eyes
met
she
gave
me
one
of
the
most
provokingly
pretty
smiles,
then
turned
and
went
up
the
cliff
path
and
so
out
of
my
life--to
my
everlasting
regret.
Return
to-night
in
a
cattle
steamer.
June
18.
Dr.----,
M.A.,
F.R.S.,
D.C.L.,
LL.D.,
called
in
the
office
to-day,
and
seeing
Dad
typing,
said,
"Are
you
Mr.
Barbellion?"
Dad
replied
in
the
affirmative,
whereupon
the
Doctor
handed
him
his
card,
and
Dad
said
he
thought
it
was
his
son
he
wanted
to
see.
He
is
an
old
gentleman
aged
eighty
or
thereabouts,
with
elastic-sided
boots,
an
umbrella,
and
a
guardian
nephew--a
youngster
of
about
sixty.
But
I
paid
him
due
reverence
as
a
celebrated
zoologist
and
at
his
invitation
[and
to
my
infinite
pride]
accompanied
him
on
an
excursion
to
the
coast,
where
he
wanted
to
see
Philoscia
Couchii,
which
I
readily
turned
up
for
him.
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