ST. VALENTINE'S DAY 43 



make love instead of war to a new-comer, and 

 send both his former mate and the new drake 

 packing. 



Sometimes the drake is sent away, and the 

 duck with the persistence of her sex only retires 

 up the meadow, then comes back and chitters 

 about the marge, now and then re-entering the 

 water. In such a case, as often as not, the resi- 

 dent duck takes up the war and chases her rival 

 out of the water and along the meadow till the 

 other takes wing and off. Never many minutes 

 pass without some more or less determined effort 

 on the part of another pair to win the pool. The 

 first occupiers are very seldom, if ever, evicted, so 

 much advantage does the consciousness of right 

 give. I have no doubt that the drake that can 

 win and keep this most eligible site may have the 

 pick of all the ducks of Hyde Park, St. James's, 

 Buckingham Palace, and Holland House. 



The meadow, which is a good hundred yards 

 long, and half that width, slopes upward all the 

 way from the pool. A few trees stand about it, 

 and bushes encroach from the sides. Any one 

 would say that it was an ideal place for rabbits, 

 and there are rabbits. Not the grey wild rabbit, 

 however, but black ones and yellow ones. The 

 grass is extraordinarily green at all times of the 

 year, and five or six of these strongly coloured 

 rabbits make a complete and fascinating picture 

 that few Londoners fail to appreciate. 



To-day there is the excitement of a rabbit hunt. 



