Sitting at ease one day watching a family party, I became aware of a rat that was watching them as well--a common brown farmyard rat--that, with so many others of his kind, haunt osier-beds and streams, and, by their depredations, bring discredit upon the water-vole. The miscreant was on the bank; the "moor-chickens" were paddling in a dutiful, unsuspicious fashion behind their mother, when one of them, coming to some weeds, must needs scramble on to the top, to show what a clever bird it was. Something it found there interested it for an instant, and meanwhile all the rest went on. Then I saw the rat slip into the water, and swim towards the little platform of weeds; and the chick saw it too, and wondered, no doubt, what it was. But it decided that the thing did not look quite right somehow, and got into the water to follow its brothers and sisters. If it had known what was behind it, and had paddled at its best pace, it would have beaten the rat easily; but it was in no hurry, and went slowly across towards the bank. Close behind it swam the rat. The little bird was doomed. In my cap I had some dabchick's eggs, and I took one out, and trusting to luck to miss the bird, threw it at the beast. There was a smart splash in the water, just where I had hoped to see it, close to the rat's nose, and the next instant the chick was swimming for dear life after its mother and the rat was scrambling up the bank. I wonder what each of them thought of that dabchick's egg? Nothing so "wonderful" as that ever happens to us in our lives. With birds and beasts it happens every day. But they do not go crazy at the constant repetition of miracles, for, fortunately, they do not understand them. "Fen sparrows chirp and fly to fetch The withered reed-down rustling nigh; And by the sunny side the ditch Prepare their dwelling warm and dry." Next to moorhens, the most constant companion of the visitor to the sedgy margins of a pond or osier-bed is the reed-warbler. To many eyes the reed-and the sedge-warblers look alike, and to most ears their songs sound alike. Nor in their comings and goings and general behaviour is there much to distinguish them as they creep about in their shady coverts [Illustration: THE REED MUSICIANS]