of the club is an old crested pelican,
who, by some oversight, has never been provided with a private name of
his own. I think he should be called Peter, because he can take such a
miraculous draught of fishes. It _is_ a draught; you know--a pelican
doesn't eat fishes--he drinks them down in bulk. For Peter, a dozen or
so fresh herrings is a mere swill round of the mouth.

[Illustration: A QUIET ROUND OR TWO.]

Peter walks about the club premises with much dignity, deferred to on
all sides by the other members. His kingship is rarely disputed, having
been achieved by the sort of conquest most familiar in the pelican club;
and his divine right is as much respected as his tremendous left.

A pelican never bears malice; he hasn't time, especially now, with
competition so keen in the fish business, and Church's fish pails only
of the ordinary size. There is never any ill-feeling after a little
spar, and each proceeds, in the most amicable way, to steal some other
pelican's fish. A spar at this club, by-the-bye, is a joyous and
hilarious sight. Two big birds with stumpy legs and top-heavy beaks,
solemnly prancing and manoeuvring before one another with an
accompaniment of valiant gobbles and a punctuation of occasional
pecks--a gleesome spectacle.

[Illustration: PETER.]

[Illustration: A SWILL ROUND.]

Another sport much exhibited at the pelican club is that of
the broadsword. The school of fence is that of Mr. Vincent
Crummies--one--two--three--four--over; one--two--three--four--under.
You see, when a dozen or two birds with beaks a couple of feet long or
so get together in a small area, and now and again rush all in the same
direction for fish, fencing is certain to develop, sooner or later. So
here you have it, _secundum artem_--one--two--three--four--over;
one--two--three--four--under; and although none have yet attained the
Crummleian degree of knocking out sparks, there is a deal of hollow
noise, as of thumping on a wooden box. But there is never any
after-malice, and in less than five minutes either combatant will
swallow a fish rightfully belonging to the other, with perfect
affability.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

There is a good deal of the philosopher about the pelican, and of a more
genuine sort than characterizes the stork. The pelican always makes the
best of a bad job, without going into an unnecessary tantrum over it. If
another member of the club snatches