in olden times.
The Vintners' mark for their swans is a nick or notch on each side of
the beak, from which their swans have been called, merrily, "swans with
two necks" (nicks). Perhaps you have heard of an inn, which has a swan
with two necks as a sign; now you will understand how it came by so
strange a name.
[Illustration: THE SWAN.]
The swan builds his nest of sticks near the river side, generally
amongst the reeds. If disturbed, the male bird assumes a very warlike
attitude, and will attack the intruder with great violence. The swan is
a strong, powerful bird, and I have heard of a boy whose arm was broken
by a blow from a swan's wing, because he ventured too near the nest. But
when not sitting, swans are harmless, gentle birds. They live to a great
age, feeding on coarse grass and water-weeds. Young swans are called
cygnets, and are at first quite grey or light brown; they do not become
perfectly white until the beginning of the third year. The swan is not a
native of our island, but comes originally from the East, and is, when
in a state of nature, migratory in its habits. One species of wild swan,
called the Hooper, or Whistling Swan, spends the winter in warm
climates, sometimes flying as far south as Africa, and returns in spring
to Iceland, Norway, Lapland, and Siberia. This bird is hunted eagerly by
the Icelanders for its soft white down. The season chosen is the
moulting time, when the poor birds, having lost their quill feathers,
are unable to fly away; and with trained dogs which catch them by the
neck, and little ponies which ride them down, the swans are taken in
great numbers.
The Black Swan is another variety, found in Australia. Formerly this
bird was considered very rare, but now it may be seen any day in one or
other of the parks. Swans are very particular in not allowing their
neighbours to intrude on their domains. If a strange swan comes to that
part of the river which has been already appropriated, he is instantly
pursued and compelled to return to his own family. Once two White Swans
attacked a poor Black Swan on the lake in the Regent's Park, and at last
drove him ashore so exhausted that he fell dead. The White Swans kept
sailing up and down to the spot where he fell, with every feather on
end, and apparently proud of their conquest. Swans are fond of their
young, and the mother will often carry her young ones to another part of
the river on her back. Cygnets are good to eat, and the
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