THE BALD-PATE DUCK. 



" There seem to be as many 

 Ducks as there are Owls,'' re- 

 marks Bobbie. '' This fellow is 

 called Bald-pate, but he's not 

 bare on top of his head like 

 Gran'pa, at all." 



" No, his head is feathered as 

 well as any Duck's head," 

 replies mamma. " I remember 

 hearing him called the Widgeon, 

 I think." 



^^ Yes, that's what it says here, 

 the American Widgeon, a game 

 bird, you know, mamma." 



" Yes, its flesh is very delic- 

 ious, almost as good as the 

 Canvas-back." 



'' Oh, but these Bald-pates are 

 cunning fellows," exclaims Bob- 

 bie, continuing his reading, '' It 

 says they are fond of a certain 

 grass plant which grows deep in 

 both salt and fresh water, but 

 they don't dive for it as the 

 Canvas-back and other deep 

 water Ducks do." 



'^Well?" says mamma, as 

 Bobbie stops, his lips moving, 

 but uttering no sound. 



" I stopped to spell a word," 

 explains Bobbie. ^' It says they 

 closely follow and watch the 

 Canvas-back and other Ducks, 

 and when they rise to the sur- 

 face of the water with the roots 

 of the plant in their bills, Mr. 

 Bald-pate quickly snatches a 

 part, or all of the catch, and 



hurries off to eat it at his 

 leisure." 



''A mean fellow, indeed," re- 

 marks mamma, '^ but he has no 

 reason to guide him, as you 

 have, you know." 



'^ Indeed I donV know," quickly 

 says Bobbie. '' You remember 

 that story about the imprisoned 

 Duck that had its leg broken 

 and was put under a small crate, 

 or coop, to keep it from running 

 about? Well, some of the other 

 Ducks pitied the little prisoner 

 and tried to release him by forc- 

 ing their necks under the crate 

 and thus lifting it up. They 

 found they weren't strong enough 

 to do that, and so they quacked^ 

 and quacked^ and quacked among 

 themselves, then marched away 

 in a body. Soon they came back 

 with forty ducks, every one in 

 the farm yard. They sur- 

 rounded the crate and tried to 

 lift it as before, but again they 

 failed. Then they quacked some 

 more, and after a long talk the 

 whole of them went to one side 

 of the crate. As many as could 

 thrust their necks underneath it, 

 and the rest pushed them for- 

 ward from behind. A good 

 push, a strong push, up went the 

 crate a little way, and out wad- 

 dled the little prisoner. I want 

 to know if they didn't reason 

 that out, mamma? " 



48 



