THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. 



Just a common Duck ? 



No, I'm not. There is only one 

 other Duck handsomer than I am, and 

 he is called the Wood Duck. You 

 have heard something about him 

 before. I am a much smaller Duck, 

 but size doesn't count much, I find 

 when it comes to getting on in the 

 world — in our world, that is. I have 

 seen a Sparrow worry a bird four times 

 its size, and I expect you have seen a 

 little boy do the same with a big boy 

 many a time. 



What is the reason I'm not a com- 

 mon Duck ? 



Well, in the first place, I don't wad- 

 dle. I can walk just as gracefully as I 

 can swim. Your barn-yard Duck 

 can't do that. I can run, too, without 

 getting all tangled up in the grass, and 

 he can't do that, either. But some- 

 times I don't mind associating with 

 the common Duck. If he lives in a 

 nice big barn-yard, that has a good 

 pond, and is fed with plenty of grain, 

 I visit him quite often. 



Where do I generally live ? 



Well, along the edges of shallow, 

 grassy waters, where I feed upon 

 grass, seeds, acorns, grapes, berries, as 

 well as insects, worms, and small snails. 

 I walk quite a distance from the water 

 to get these things, too. 



Can I fly ? 



Indeed I can, and very swiftly. You 

 can see I am no common Duck when 



I can swim, and walk, and fly. You 

 can't do the last, though you can the 

 first two. 



Good to eat ? 



Well, yes, they say when I feed on 

 rice and wild oats I am perfectly 

 delicious. Some birds were, you see, 

 born to sing, and flit about in the 

 trees, and look beautiful, while some 

 were born to have their feathers taken 

 off, and be roasted, and to look fine 

 in a big dish on the table. The 

 Teal Duck is one of those birds. You 

 see we are useful as well as pretty. 

 We don't mind it much if you eat us 

 and say, " what a fine bird ! " but 

 when you call us " tough, " that hurts 

 our feelings. 



Good for Christmas ? 



Oh, yes, or any other tnne — when 

 you can catch us ! We fly so fast that 

 that it is not easy to do ; and can dive 

 under the water, too, when wounded. 



Something about our nests ? 



Oh, they are built upon the ground, 

 in a dry tuft of grass and weeds and 

 lined with feathers. My mate often 

 plucks the feathers from her own 

 breast to line it. Sometimes she lays 

 ten eggs, indeed once she laid sixteen. 



Such a family of Ducklings as we 

 had that year ! You should have seen 

 them swimming after their mother, 

 and all crying. Quack, quack^ quack ! 

 like babies as they were. 



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