Gerald Durrell - THREE SINGLES TO ADVENTURE

Another would reply "Robert!" in outraged tones, while a third would be muttering "Robert, Robert, Robert, Robert", to itself. So the conversation would go on, and I have never heard such a variety of expression put into one word as those macaws managed to put into the rather dull name of Robert.

But, for once, I was really glad to see the grey and gloomy docks of Liverpool looming up at the ship's sides. There was still a great deal to do, of course, unloading the collection and distributing the specimens to the various zoos, but I knew that the worst of the trip was over. Bob, looking very civilized, was waiting on the docks to meet me, and together we watched the unloading of the many cages. The last to go over the side were the two huge crates that housed the anteaters, revolving slowly in the net as the crane swung them on to the quay. Then, accompanied by Bob, I went down to my cabin to pack, feeling in better spirits than I had done for the past three weeks.

"Dear old England ," said Bob, as he sat on my bunk and watched me packing, "it's been raining ever since I landed, you know."

"I know," I said; " England is an Amerindian word meaning Land of Perpetual Downpour ."

I was bundling my clothes into a trunk when I felt something hard in the pocket of a pair of trousers. Hoping it might be money, I investigated. As I turned the pocket out three little green tickets fell out on to the floor of the cabin.

I picked them up and looked at them and then passed them silently to Bob. Across each one, in bold black letters, was written: Georgetown to Adventure First Class.