Such ducks were then, and perhaps are still, the most remarkable residents of Flamborough.

Not only because the air is fine, and the puddles and the dabblings of extraordinary merit, and the wind fluffs up their pretty feathers while alive, as the eloquent poulterer by-and-by will do; but because they have really distinguished birth, and adventurous, chivalrous, and bright blue Norman blood.

To such purpose do the gay young Vikings of the world of quack pour in (when the weather and the time of year invite), equipped with red boots and plumes of purple velvet, to enchant the coy lady ducks in soft water, and eclipse the familiar and too legal drake.
For a while they revel in the change of scene, the luxury of unsalted mud and scarcely rippled water, and the sweetness and culture of tame dilly-ducks, to whom their brilliant bravery, as well as an air of romance and billowy peril, commends them too seductively.

The responsible sire of the pond is grieved, sinks his unappreciated bill into his back, and vainly reflects upon the vanity of love.
From a loftier point of view, however, this is a fine provision; and Mr.
Mordacks always took a lofty view of everything.
"A beautiful duck, ma'am; a very grand duck!" in his usual loud and masterful tone, he exclaimed to Widow Precious.

"I understand your question now as to my ability to pay for him.