If the stable is found too trying, step aside into the harness-room. If the children make too much noise, or begin to stare too impudently at the scornful beauty, get away to a safer distance. Tempt her forbearance as far as you safely dare, but not an inch farther. _Festina lente_ is a capital maxim for the impatient trainer. Should a half-trained passage hawk ever be pegged out at the block? Many falconers will answer Yes. But I am of a different persuasion. A man who is over-hawked, or has too few assistants, may think it almost a necessity to weather his hawk at the block. But even in such a case I would advise to weather her in her hood. The proper way, however, to weather a hawk, when she is in course of being manned, is surely on the fist. If a man has so many hawks and so few falconers that he cannot spare one of the latter to carry each of the hawks for some hours every day, he is going about his business in an unbusiness-like way. What good can a passage hawk possibly get from standing as a prisoner on a block of wood, tempted continually to jump off, and jerked back as often as she does so by a rude pull on to a damp plot of grass? The fashion now so prevalent of pegging hawks out on the lawn by themselves seems to me, if the truth is to be told, to have originated in the laziness of the falconer or his subordinates. It is manifestly much easier and simpler to tie a hawk to a block, than to roam about with her on the fist. But is it equally beneficial? Is it even advisable at all? It is argued that a hawk, while so pegged out, is breathing the fresh air and getting manned, if there are, as there should be, people passing to and fro before her eyes. But, on the other hand, she is all the time plagued by a feeling of discomfort and discontent, which cannot be good for her. Her position is not natural to her. It is not the one she would choose of her own accord. Every bird which flits across within her field of view, every cloud which passes over head, almost every breeze which whispers in the tree-tops, suggests to her a longing to take flight. A dozen places invite her to leave her humble perch and go to them and obtain a better view. Four out of every five wild-caught hawks, unless their spirit has been half broken by fasting or persecution, will be found to bate off constantly when pegged out. And bating off cannot do them any good. It must remind them painfully that they are now captives and slaves. Moreover, it is impossible to properly arrange their surroundings. Either there will be too many or too few people about. And whoever there is about, whether man, child, or dog, will either be too near or too far away. The background will not arrange itself with a due regard to the happy medium between distant reserve and vulgar familiarity. On the whole, there are very few passage hawks that I should like to peg out bareheaded before they have arrived at a much later stage of their education than we have yet reached.