Now a hawk cannot strike unless it is above its prey, and the heron seems instinctively to be aware of this. It used to be thought a fine sight to see these two birds striving to rise each above the other. Round and round they went, wheeling in a succession of circles, always higher and higher. At length the hawk rose high enough to shoot down upon the heron. Sometimes he was received upon the long sharp bill of the latter, and simply spitted himself; but generally he would break the wing of the heron, or clutch him with beak and claws, when the two came fluttering down together.
This sport has now fallen into disuse, and English herons lead a peaceful life enough. There are some at the Zoological gardens, and I think you will laugh to see them standing there at the edge of their pond, with heads sunk between their shoulders, looking like long-nosed old gentlemen in pointed tail-coats.
AUNT TOTTY’S PETS:
COCO AND MARQUIS.
The next of her pets that Aunt Totty told us about were a mule and a dog.
“Yes, my dears,” said Aunt Totty, “Marquis was certainly a splendid animal; as large as a fine horse, as strong as a bull, and wonderfully fleet. We used to drive him about in a light two-wheeled carriage, a kind of cabriolet, which was the carriage most used in that part of France in those days. I must tell you that what I am going to relate happened when I was quite a little child, which of course is a long time ago, and we were living at the time in a chateau, or large country-house, in the south of France. There were large forests in that part of the country, and the house was a long way off from any town.
