gularly fed with wheat; and, as
the lady of the house pays them the greatest attention, they have
learned to look up to her as their natural protectress and friend; so
much so, that one bird in particular, which was much persecuted by the
rest, would, when attacked, fly to her for refuge; and whenever she
calls, the whole flock, as tame as barn-door fowls, quit the water, and
assemble round her, to the number of seventeen. (November, 1833.)

120. "They have also made other friends in the dogs belonging to the
family, approaching them without fear, though hurrying off with great
alarm on the appearance of a strange dog.

"The position of the water, together with the familiarity of these
birds, has afforded many interesting particulars respecting their
habits.

"They have three broods in a season--the first early in April; and they
begin to lay again when the first hatch is about a fortnight old. They
lay eight or nine eggs, and sit about three weeks,--the cock
alternately with the hen. The nest in the thorn-bush is placed usually
so high above the surface of the water, they cannot climb into it
again; but, as a substitute, within an hour after they leave the nest,
the cock bird builds a larger and more roomy nest for them, with
sedges, at the water's edge, which they can enter or retire from at
pleasure. For about a month they are fed by the old birds, but soon
become very active in taking flies and water-insects. Immediately on
the second hatch coming out, the young ones of the first hatch assist
the old ones in feeding and hovering over them, leading them out in
detached parties, and making additional nests for them, similar to
their own, on the brink of the moat.

"But it is not only in their instinctive attachments and habits that
they merit notice; the following anecdote proves that they are gifted
with a sense of observation approaching to something very like
reasoning faculties.

"At a gentleman's house in Staffordshire, the pheasants are fed out of
one of those boxes described in page 287, the lid of which rises with
the pressure of the pheasant standing on the rail in front of the box.
A water-hen observing this, went and stood upon the rail as soon as the
pheasant had quitted it; but the weight of the bird being insufficient
to raise the lid of the box, so as to enable it to get at the corn, the
water-hen kept jumping on the rail to give additional impetus to its
weight: this partially succeeded, but not