90 IN A CHESHIRE GARDEN 



they are common enough most years. In 

 1908, one took up his abode in the old river- 

 bed just outside our window, and used to 

 serenade us every night (May 8th to 26th). 

 He went on incessantly, exactly like a clock, 

 quite regularly and evenly. He was at it 

 when we went to bed about 12 and never 

 ceased or varied in the least as long as we 

 were awake to hear him. 



What was once the bed of the Mersey has 

 now (1912), thanks to the Ship Canal 

 engineers, become land comparatively speak- 

 ing dry. But, of course, the process of 

 filling up was gradual, and for some years 

 more or less water was left in the river-bed. 

 During one stage, which lasted perhaps ten 

 years, waterhens, which here are known as 

 coots (true coots are called " baldheaded "), 

 became quite common in the garden. We 

 used to see them rather as waders than 

 swimmers, but we did constantly see them 

 running about on the soft mud, washing in 

 the little pools, and, as pairing time came on, 

 fighting desperately together. In the autumn 

 a dozen or more would be feeding on the 

 lawn at once, and in the winter some would 

 often come to pick up food with the fowls, 

 I have even seen one make an attempt to get 

 fat from a net hung out for the tits. We 

 often saw them perching quite high up in a 

 tree. In 1907, I had a photograph given me 

 showing a waterhen's nest in a small wood 



