The white duck, Lily, made a nest on the ground, in a small enclosure, from which some tame rabbits had been removed.  She gathered the scattered straw into one corner, and made a much neater nest than the other ducks did, who laid their eggs under the wood-pile among the small chips.

She laid several large, smooth, white eggs, and when she had as many as she could conveniently take care of, she began to sit on them to keep them warm, till the little ducks should be ready to peck their way out.  She plucked the soft white down from her breast, to line the nest, and to make it of a more even temperature for the eggs; and, whenever she left to procure food, or to take a short swim on the pond, she carefully covered them.

The duck cannot spread her wings as wide as the hen, so she has to be much more particular about her nest.  She makes it deeper and warmer than Biddy.  It is wonderful with what skill all animals rear their young.  It shows the great goodness and kindness of God, that he should thus fit the creatures he has made for the duties they must perform.  His care is continual, not only over us, but over them all.  He hears the young ravens when they cry, and the ducks and the chickens are not forgotten by him.  To the duck he has not given the brooding wings of the hen-mother; but he has given her a coat of down, from which she can make a warm bed for her cherished eggs.

It was a very pretty sight to see Lily on her nest, almost covered by the straw, her head turned back, and her broad yellow bill partially hidden beneath her wing.  The down lay scattered about like snow-flakes.  She looked patient and hopeful, as she opened her eyes to see who had intruded on her solitude.

When a sitting-duck goes in search of food, she acts so queerly that you would surely laugh to see her, if you are not accustomed to her odd ways.  She bends her head back, and draws it close to her body, and waddles about in the greatest haste, quacking all the time.

Lily waited four weeks before the ducklings appeared.  Some of the brood were of a straw-colour, and some were marked with spots of black.  They were all pretty.  When I first saw them, they were partly hidden beneath their mother.  Their glossy bills and bright eyes were visible, but they were afraid to venture from their shelter.  They were provided with water and food in the old rabbit-house, because, if they followed their mother to the pond, the musk-rats would probably devour some of them.

While the little ones remained with their mother, they were safe, but when they became discontented, and wandered from home, they were sometimes lost.  The rats were their principal enemies, and those from which they had most to fear.  They were constantly lurking about to catch the ducklings, and sometimes the defenseless little ones ran directly into their deep holes, from which there was no possibility of escape.  Quite a number of Lily’s family came to an untimely end in this way.