270 EDUCATION. 
has but to open its bill) With the duck, this education or training 
is more complex. I observed one summer, on a lake in Normandy, 
a duck, followed by her brood, giving them their first lesson. The 
nurslings, riotous and greedy, asked but for food. The mother, yield- 
ing to their cries, plunged to the bottom of the water, reappearing 
with some small worm or little fish, which she distributed impartially, 
never giving twice in succession to the same duckling! 
In this picture the most touching figure was the mother, whose 
stomach undoubtedly was also craving, but who retained nothing for 
herself, and seemed happy in the sacrifice. Her visible desire was to 
accustom her family to do as she did, to dive under the water in- 
trepidly to seize their prey. With a voice almost gentle, she implored 
this action of courageous confidence. I had the happiness of seeing 
the little ones plunge in, one after another, to the depth of the black 
abyss. Their education was just on the eve of completion. 
This is but a simple training, and for one of the inferior vocations. 
There remains to speak of that of the arts: of the art of flight, the 
art of song, the art of architecture. Nothing is more complex than 
the education of certain singing birds. The perseverance of the 
father, the docility of the young, are worthy of all admiration. 
And this education extends beyond the family-circle. The night- 
ingales, the chaffinches, while still young or unskilful, know how to 
listen to, and profit by, the superior bird which has been allotted to 
them as their instructor. In those Russian palaces where flourishes 
the noble Oriental partiality for the bulbul’s song, you see everywhere 
these singing-schools. The master nightingale, in his cage suspended 
in the centre of a saloon, has his scholars ranged around him in their 
respective cages. A certain sum per hour is paid for each bird 
brought here to learn his lesson. Before the master sings they chatter 
and gossip among themselves, salute and recognize one another. But 
as soon as the mighty teacher, with one imperious note, like that of 
a sonorous steel bell, has imposed silence, you see them listen with a 
sensible deference, then timidly repeat the strain. The master com- 
placently returns to the principal passages, corrects, and gently sets 
