The construction of the Moor-hen's nest is a serious operation, in which both parents assist. The materials made use of are leaves of various kinds, both dry and fresh; these are piled upon each other, sometimes apparently in a very slovenly manner, but at others with more care, so that when completed the structure looks like a coarsely-made basket of leaves, in the centre of which is a basin-shaped depression, wherein the eggs, from seven to eleven in number, are deposited in the course of about a fortnight. The eggs are of moderate size, the shells hard, fine-grained, and smooth, but dull-looking. Their colour is pale rusty yellow, spotted with violet-grey and ash-grey, and besprinkled with cinnamon and reddish brown specks. Both sexes take a share in the incubation of the eggs, which are hatched after the lapse of twenty or twenty-one days. The young remain in the nest about twenty-four hours after their escape from the egg, at the end of which time they are introduced by their mother to their new element, the water, to which they are heartily welcomed by their male parent. The family now begins to be a very interesting spectacle; the young brood swims about, closely following the movements of the old birds, all of them eagerly watching for worms or insects that their affectionate caterers pick up for them; and as soon as they see one caught, all simultaneously rush forward to obtain the coveted morsel. After a few days, however, they learn how to obtain their own food, although they are still carefully watched and protected from danger. At the slightest warning they vanish; indeed, it is wonderful to see the celerity of their movements. In about a fortnight they are able to shift for themselves, and their elders begin to make preparations for rearing a second brood, which, after the lapse of a few weeks, make their appearance upon the water, and the scene we have just described is enacted over again, but with additional circumstances that make it still more interesting. By the time the second family show themselves, those of the first brood are half grown up, and might be supposed to trouble themselves very little about the additional members of their family; such, however, is by no means the case; small and great, old and young, seem to meet each other in the most affectionate manner. The half-grown birds at once begin to share with their parents the labour of providing for their new brothers and sisters, to whom they bring food in their beaks, and watch over them with the greatest assiduity, just as their parents had done to them a few weeks previously. As the number of the second brood is usually smaller than that of the first, and the parent birds are not a bit less assiduous in helping their younger than they were in providing for their elder children, the latter grow rapidly; they generally swim in the middle of the little flock, and are fed and cared for by all. * * * * *