You are no doubt well acquainted with this beautiful bird, and have perhaps fed some of its species, by the ornamental waters of the parks. Or perhaps, and that is far better, you have seen it sailing majestically down the river Thames, free and unconfined, enjoying its perfect liberty. The swan has been called a royal bird, being formerly regarded as the exclusive property of the crown, and even now there are but few exceptions to the rule. The royal swans, that is those belonging to the Crown, are marked in a particular manner on the bill, and every year, on the first Monday in August, men, now called swan-hoppers (a corruption of the old term swan-uppers, because they went up the river after the swans), proceed up the Thames to mark the young swans hatched during the year. The Dyers' Company and the Vintners' Company also own swans in the Thames, which were granted to them 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.

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 corporation of Norwich, who boast this treat at their public dinners, are bound, by some old regulation, to present the Duke of Norfolk every year with an immense cygnet pie.

The Wild Swan has a very loud call, and utters a melancholy cry when one of the flock is killed. The Wild Swans of Hudson's Bay furnish the finest quills used for writing. Swans and their eggs are still protected by several statutes, and to steal the latter is felony.

I will copy for you an instance in which a swan once showed that wonderful instinct with which all animals are gifted by God. "Whilst sitting on her eggs, she was one day seen to be very busy, collecting weeds, grasses, and other materials to raise her nest. A farming man was ordered to take down half a load of haulm, with which she most industriously elevated her nest and eggs two feet and a half. That very night there came down a tremendous fall of rain, which flooded all the malt-kilns, and did great damage. Man made no preparation, the bird did. Her eggs were above, and only just above, the water."