ause she was too weak to resist them, the others
treated her cruelly, biting her and pushing her away from the food.

One day it happened that the two ducks--Sir Muscovy and Lady Blanche--had
come up from the water before the others, and having taken their repast
were sitting together under the shade of a flowering currant-bush, when
they chanced to see poor Miss Crippletoes very badly used and crowded
away from the dish. Sir Muscovy rose to his feet; a few rapid words
seemed to pass between him and his mate, and then he fell upon the other
drake and the heartless minions who had persecuted the helpless one,
drove them far away out of sight, and, returning, went to the corner
where the victim was cowering, her face to the wall. He seemed to
whisper to her, or in some way to convey to her a sense of protection;
for after a few moments she tremblingly went with him to the dish, and
hurriedly ate her dinner while he stood by, repulsing the advances of the
few brown ducks who remained near and seemed inclined to attack her.

When she had eaten enough Lady Blanche joined them, and they went down
the hill together to their favourite swimming-place. After that Miss
Crippletoes always followed a little behind her protectors, and thus
shielded and fed she grew stronger and well-feathered, though she was
always smaller than she should have been and had a lowly manner, keeping
a few steps in the rear of her superiors and sitting at some distance
from their noon resting-place.

Phoebe noticed after a while that Lady Blanche was seldom to be seen, and
Sir Muscovy and Miss Crippletoes often came to their meals without her.
The would-be mother refused to inhabit the house Phoebe had given her,
and for a long time the place she had chosen for her sitting could not be
found. At length the Square Baby discovered her in a most ideal spot. A
large boulder had dropped years ago into the brook that fills our duck-
pond; dropped and split in halves with the two smooth walls leaning away
from each other. A grassy bank towered behind, and on either side of the
opening, tall bushes made a miniature forest where the romantic mother
could brood her treasures while her two guardians enjoyed the water close
by her retreat.

All this happened before my coming to Thornycroft Farm, but it was I who
named the hero and heroines of the romance when Phoebe had told me all
the particulars. Yesterday morning I was sitting by my open window. It
was