IN THE DUCK-VARD. 149

the yard can understand you, I may assert that I am that
person.”

“She’s quite full of Portulak,” said a little common Duck, who
was witty ; and all the other common Ducks considered the word
Portulak quite a good joke, for it sounded like Portugal ; and
they nudged each other and said “Rapp!” It was too witty !
And all the other Ducks now began to notice the little Singing
Bird. -

“The Portuguese has certainlya greater command of language,”
they said. “For our part, we don’t care to fill our beaks with
such long words, but our sympathy is just as great.. If we don’t
do anything for you, we march about with you everywhere ; and
we think that the best thing we can do.”

“You have a lovely voice,” said one of the oldest. ‘It must
bea great satisfaction to be able to give so much pleasure as ycu
are able to impart. I certainly am no great judge of your song,
and consequently I keep my beak shut ; and even that is better
than talking nonsense to you, as others do.”

“ Don’t plague him so,” interposed the Portuguese Duck; “he
requires rest and nursing. My little Singing Bird, do you wish
me to prepare another bath for you?”

“Oh,no! pray let me be dry !” was the little Bird’s petition.

“ The water cure is the only remedy for me when I am unwell,”
quoth the Portuguese, ‘Amusement is beneficial too. The
neighbouring fowls will soon come to pay their visit. There are
two Cochin Chinese among them. They wear feathers on their
legs, are well educated, and have been brought from afar, conse-
quently they stand higher than the others in my regard.”

And the Fowls came, and the Cock came; to-day he was polite
enough to abstain from being rude.

“You are a true Singing Bird,” he said, “and you do as much
with your little voice as can possibly be done with it. But one
requires a little more shrillness, that every hearer may hear that
one is a male.”

The two Chinese stood quite enchanted with the appearance
of. the Singing Bird. He looked very much rumpled after his
bath, so that he seemed to them to have quite the appearance of
alittle Cochin China fowl.

“He's charming,” they cried, and began a conversation. with
eee speaking in whispers, and using the most aristocratic Chinese

ialect.

“We are of your race,” they continued. “The Ducks, even
the Portuguese, are swimming birds, as you cannot fail to have
noticed. You.do not know us yet; very few know us, or give
themselves the trouble to make our acquaintance—not even any
of the fowls, though we are born to occupy a higher grade on the
ladder than most of the rest.. But that does not disturb us: we
quietly pursue our path amid. the others, whose principles are