108 NOTES ON FIELDS AND CATTLE. 



their feathers are sufficiently grown, catch and pinion 

 one wing — that is, with a sharp knife cut off the end 

 joint. Their offspring will be sufficiently domesti- 

 cated for you to forego this operation. I love to 

 watch them, about nightfall, wing their way around 

 and round the homestead, their pinions whistliug as 

 they pass overhead to settle down again quietly as 

 ever, as though nothing had happened, upon the 

 pool, drinking up the water so enjoyingly, and 

 coming at call to feed even from my hand. 



They are small when dressed for the table, but 

 their flesh is peculiarly delicious. Three-parts grown 

 ducks are useful to turn into gardens or a turnip- 

 field, where they will do good service by swallowing 

 up the destructive slug and caterpillar hordes. 

 Their nests of down they make under a heap of 

 thorns, with which I have a high rocky bank beside 

 the pool covered, or in a hedge not far away. They 

 cover them so carefully with dry leaves when they 

 leave them, that it requires a keen eye and some 

 practice to detect them. It is best done — though 

 that consumes time — by watching the duck return. 

 While sitting, her bright eye will discover her, when 

 you would not have noticed her plumage amidst the 

 brown herbage— so much her own hue — wherein she 

 has ensconced herself. Take the eggs when they 

 have reached the number of twelve or fourteen, and 

 set them under a hen. The duck will make another 

 nest shortly. Under any circumstances she is a bad 

 mother, leading her little ones at once to the water, 

 which, oddly enough, is about the worst that could 

 befal a young wild-duck domesticated; the hatch 



