THE PHEASANT. 163 



will be called cruel by certain newspaper writers. 

 If the writer were a pheasant, would he really 

 prefer the netting process, and the impossibility 

 of escape ? We fancy not. We know if we were 

 to be hatched as a pheasant, we should be un- 

 iilial enough to hope sincerely that our poor 

 mother might have her nest robbed, and we 

 might be hatched by a hen. It is curious what 

 bad mothers they are. While we have often 

 known a partridge rear her whole seventeen, a 

 pheasant in a rough country will scarcely on an 

 average rear more than three. We saw one 

 cross a wide drain, and go on with two which 

 had crossed where it was narrow, leavinsf six 

 to die if we had not rescued them. 



Two or three gentlemen tell the Committee 

 that Mr. Waterton had plenty of pheasants. If 

 he put down food, and never disturbed his covers, 

 a certain number of his neighbours' birds would 

 find their way there, no doubt ; but if his 

 woods were the refuge for all the stray cats and 

 stoats in the country, and if his park was full 

 m2 



