The Swans. 31 



and from the summit of that littered 

 mass the sitting bird commands all 

 approaches, whilst her mate keeps guard 

 below. To my mind an old male Swan 

 never looks more beautiful than when, 

 thus * on duty,' he sails forth from the 

 margin of the stream to meet intru- 

 ders ; with his head and neck thrown 

 back between his snowy pinions, and 

 every feather quivering with excitement, 

 he drives through the rippling water, 

 contenting himself, if unmolested, with 

 a quiet assertion of his rights, but with 

 loud hisses and threatening actions re- 

 senting an attack. When the young, too, 

 under the joint convoy of their parents, 

 have taken to the water, the action of 

 both birds is full of grace and vigour, 

 and the deep call-notes of the old pair 

 mingle with the soft whistlings of their 

 downy nestlings. What prettier sight 

 presents itself upon our inland waters 

 than such a group disporting themselves 

 in the bright sunshine of a summer's 

 day, when the pure whiteness of the old 

 birds' feathers contrasts with the green 

 background of reeds and rushes, and the 

 little grey cygnets on their mother's back 

 are peeping with bright bead-like eyes 

 from the shelter of her spotless plumes ? 



