was one of those
sharp pangs that true lovers of nature alone can understand. From all
such I know I shall have sympathy in the tragic death of my much-loved
little Verdant.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: WILD DUCK.]

THE WILD DUCKS.

WHEN our grass was being cut the mowers came upon a wild duck's nest
containing eight eggs; they were carried whilst still warm and placed
under a sitting hen; in a week's time she brought out eight fluffy
little ducklings, which were placed with her under a coop in the
farmyard. I paid them a visit the next day, but, alas! I saw four little
corpses lying about in the grass, the remaining four were chirping
piteously, and the hen was in despair at being unable to comfort her
uncanny children. Evidently their diet was in fault; I thought I would
take them in hand, and therefore had the coop brought round to the
garden, and placed under the drooping boughs of a deodar near the
drawing-room window, where I could watch over them.

I gave the wee birdies a pan of water, and placed in it some
finely-shred lettuce, with grits and brown bread crumbs, not forgetting
suitable food for the poor distracted hen. It was charming to hear the
little happy twitterings of the downy babes, how they gobbled and
sputtered and talked to each other over their repast, swimming to and
fro as if they had been ducks of mature age and experience, instead of
mere yellow fluffs of a day old; and, finally, they seemed to remember
they had a warm, comfortable mother somewhere, and sought refuge under
her kindly wings, where I left them exchanging confidences in little
drowsy chirps.

I found it needful to guard my little brood with fine wire-work, for
some carrion crows kept hovering near, and a weasel was constantly on
the watch to carry them off; but these enemies were successfully
baffled, and three of the ducks survived all dangers and grew to
beautiful maturity, the fourth having died in infancy from an accidental
peck from the hen. In rearing all wild creatures the great thing is to
study and imitate, as nearly as possible, their natural surroundings,
and especially their diet. Chopped lettuce and worms made a fair
substitute for their natural food, but the jubilation that went on when
a mass of water-weed, full of insects, water snails, &c., was brought
them, showed that they knew by instinct what suited them best. With
constant care and attention they grew very tame, and would eat out of
one's h