Explore "A Bird of Passage" by B.M. Croker on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"An eye like mine, / A lidless watcher of the public weal." / Tennyson.
PERHAPS it would be as well, before going further with this story, to dedicate a page or two to a description of that very important lady, Mrs. Creery. The gentleman who occupied a position in the background as "Mrs. Creery's husband," was a hard-working, hard-headed Scotchman, who thoroughly understood domestic politics, and the art of holding his peace. He had come to Port Blair soon after the settlement was opened up, and had subsequently gone home, and returned with a bride, a lady not, strictly speaking, in her first youth-this was twenty years ago. But let no one suppose that Mrs. Creery had spent the whole of that interval on Ross. She had made several trips to England, and had passed like a meteor through the circles in which her sister, Lady Grubb, was as the sun. Oh, how utterly weary were Mrs. Creery's intimates of those brilliant reminiscences-heard for the thousandth time. Did they not, one and all, detest the very name of "Grubb"?