268 THE BOOK OF A NATURALIST 
reality and homely pathos to the description of 
Mr. Caxton’s mild and lovable character he intro- 
duced it into his novel. A friend of the writer 
owned a duck far more worthy of admiration than 
Bulwer’s immortal bird. This was not a domestic 
duck, but a teal, which he brought down with his 
gun slightly wounded in the wing, and feeling all 
at once a strange compassion for it, he tied it up 
in a handkerchief and carried it to his home in the 
suburbs of a large town. The captive was turned 
into a courtyard and its wants attended to; it 
soon grew accustomed to its new mode of existence, 
and furthermore became strongly attached to all 
the members of the family, seeking for them in the 
rooms when it felt lonely, and always exhibiting 
distress of mind and anger in the presence of 
strangers. When a cat or dog was fondled in its 
presence it would run to the spot, administer a few 
vindictive blows to the animal with its soft bill, 
and solicit a caress for itself. The most curious 
thing in its history was that it took a special liking 
to its captor, and singled him out for its most 
marked attentions. When he went away to business 
in the morning the teal would accompany him to 
the street door to see him off, returning afterwards 
contentedly to the yard; and in the -afternoon it 
would again repair to the door, always left open, 
and standing composedly on the middle of the 
step wait its master’s return—for this teal took 
count of time. If, while it stood there watching 
the road, a stranger came in, it would open its 
