MOOR-HEN. 87 
disturbed, heedless of near approach, and tolerant of passers-by 
on an adjoining public road. The Rev. R. P. Alington has 
had them come of their own accord into this hall, and pick 
up crumbs, and on being disturbed, they would quietly run 
out of the door, stop, turn a wistful glance of regret back, 
and commence feeding outside. 
Pennant mentions a pair which would come to him to 
feed with poultry when called; and there are some now so 
tame on the ornamental waters in St. James’ Park, that 
they will come close to those who offer them food. 
Bishop Stanley writes of the Moor-Hen:—‘In the middle 
of any such little open space she may usually be detected 
swimming about with a joyous sort of jerking motion, but on 
the least rustle exciting a suspicion that an enemy is near, 
gliding silently through the narrow channels, or running with 
_ a light tread over the floating leaves, to seek invisible shelter 
under the roots or hollows of the bank. Not that she always 
prefers the water, for often in the evening she may be seen 
wandering in the new-shorn grass of a hayfield, easily dis- 
tinguishable by the white feathers underneath, and a peculiar 
jerk or flirting of the tail. But with all her shyness, she is, 
nevertheless, a tame and sociable bird; and if treated with 
kindness, will shew a marked confidence. We have seen 
Water-Hens visiting the lawn of an enclosed garden, and 
remaining there, notwithstanding the constant intrusion of 
parlour dogs, peacocks, and tame pheasants; and again, not 
unfrequent intruders in a barn-yard, mixing in a party of 
poultry. ‘ 
But at the residence of a clergyman near Cheadle, in 
Staffordshire, a much more striking instance of familiarity has 
for some years occurred. Adjacent to the lawn there is a 
moat, on which a pair of Water-Hens were observed for 
several seasons, always, however, leaving it in the spring. By 
being constantly fed they in time became quite tame, and at 
length were induced to breed there, from the circumstance of 
a thorn bush, covered with ivy, having fallen into the water, 
in which they afterwards continued to build their nest. When 
the young are a few days old, the old ones bring them up 
close to the drawing-room window, where they are regularly 
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, 
