DESERTED HOMES. 163 



them pick up a half-grown cat that has been chivied 

 a bit by a naughty little beauty of a fox-terrier, and 

 they will get a good idea of the thing. 



I visit the coots when they show off — when their 

 broods are out — and again when they pack just 

 before winter sets in. So close have the old birds 

 brought their clutches of young to me, as they 

 were feeding, that I could have touched them with 

 my ash staff. Coots do not pair all at one time : 

 some of the young ones were not much larger than 

 dabchicks ; others were larger ; some were nearly 

 as large as their parents. The larger young ones 

 had small frontal shields just developing ; the little 

 ones, grebe size, had not got these — they would 

 come presently. Young coots, in their nesting 

 plumage — that is, their first feathering after leaving 

 the nest — look like crested grebes in winter plum- 

 age, as they stretch up to trim their breast-feathers. 



The young and the old birds dived for food 

 within a yard of me. They dive and swim with 

 surprising quickness ; and the water being crystal 

 clear, I could see them darting through the beauti- 

 ful weeds at the bottom, like rabbits through short 

 cover, — in fact, the light under parts of the young 



