272 DUCKS, GEESE, SWANS, AND PELICANS. 



desses. The poetical imagination of the Greeks, in short, asso- 

 ciated their most agreeable ideas with its name. It was one of 

 their pleasing fictions that in dying and breathing out its last sigh, 

 the Swan celebrated its death by a melodious song ; or, as Eloy 

 Johanneau has it — 



" Le Oygne, i la fin de la Tie, 



Fait entendre un touohant accord, 

 Et d'une voix affaiblie 

 Chante lui-mSme en mort." 



Buffon himself has drawn the portraiture of this bird in words 

 more poetical than true : — " The Swan," he says, " reigns over the 

 water by every claim which can constitute an empire of peace, 

 grandeur, majesty, and kindness. . . . He lives more in the 

 character of a friend than a monarch amid the numerous tribes of 

 aquatic birds, all' of which seem willingly to place themselves 

 under his rule." 



The great naturalist certainly allowed himself to be led away 

 by his enthusiasm, and perhaps by his classic recollections; for 

 the Swan, although elegant and majestic in form, and graceful in 

 its movements on the water, is clumsy and awkward when on 

 land ; it is, besides, spiteful and quarrelsome. It attacks every 

 animal, and even man. The Swans in the gardens of the 

 Luxembourg at Paris had taken an aversion to all the keepers, 

 and whenever they saw one, they all came out of the water in order 

 to pick a quarrel with him. 



The principal strength of the Swan does not lie in its beak, but 

 in its wings — a most effective offensive weapon, of which it takes 

 every advantage. In spite of its bad qualities, however, the Swan is 

 the most ornamental of all our aquatic birds. Its beak is flesh 

 colour, edged with black, and its plumage white as snow. 



Its song, or rather its cry, is indeed far from being harmonious. 



It is a dull and harsh sibilation, not at all agreeable to listen to. 



Some of the poets, however, have not believed the fable which 



attributes to these birds a sonorous and melodious voice. Yirgil 



perfectly well knew how hoarse the note of the Swan really 



was — 



" Dant sonitrun rauci per stagna loquacia cycni." 



Lucretius also says — 



" Parvus cycni canor." 



