"Oh, but these Baldpates are cunning fellows," exclaims Bobbie, continuing his reading, "It says they are fond of a certain grass plant which grows deep in both salt and fresh water, but they don't dive for it as the Canvas-back and other deep water Ducks do." "Well?" says mamma, as Bobbie stops, his lips moving, but uttering no sound. "I stopped to spell a word," explains Bobbie. "It says they closely follow and watch the Canvas-back and other Ducks, and when they rise to the surface of the water with the roots of the plant in their bills, Mr. Baldpate quickly snatches a part, or all of the catch, and hurries off to eat it at his leisure." "A mean fellow, indeed," remarks mamma, "but he has no reason to guide him, as you have, you know." "Indeed I _don't_ know," quickly says Bobbie. "You remember that story about the imprisoned Duck that had its leg broken and was put under a small crate, or coop, to keep it from running about? Well, some of the other Ducks pitied the little prisoner and tried to release him by forcing their necks under the crate and thus lifting it up. They found they weren't strong enough to do that, and so they _quacked_, and _quacked_, and _quacked_ among themselves, then marched away in a body. Soon they came back with forty ducks, every one in the farm yard. They surrounded the crate and tried to lift it as before, but again they failed. Then they _quacked_ some more, and after a long talk the whole of them went to one side of the crate. As many as could thrust their necks underneath it, and the rest pushed them forward from behind. A good push, a strong push, up went the crate a little way, and out waddled the little prisoner. I want to know if they didn't reason that out, mamma?" [Illustration: From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences. BALDPATE DUCK. Copyright by Nature Study Pub. Co., 1898, Chicago.] THE BALDPATE. We would have you to wit, that on eggs though we sit, And are spiked on a spit, and are baked in a pan, Birds are older by far than your ancestors are, And made love and made war, ere the making of man! --ANDREW LANG. There is much variation in the plumage of adult males of this species of Widgeon, but as Dr. Coues says: "The bird cannot be mistaken under any condition; the extensive white of the under parts and wings is recognizable at gun-range." The female is similar, but lacks the white crown and iridescence on the head.