"Can they run very fast?" asked Neddie. "I should think they could with
such great long legs."

"Yes," said his father, "the ostrich is supposed to be able to run at the
rate of sixty miles an hour when it first sets out, but is not able to
keep up that rate of speed very long. And it has a habit of running in a
curve instead of a straight line. It is thus possible for men on horseback
to meet it and get a shot at it."

"I think it's a great pity to shoot them when they are not even good to
eat," remarked the little fellow in indignant tones. "Besides, they might
save them to grow feathers."

"Yes," returned the exhibitor, "that's what we're raising them for in
California."

"Papa, I'd like to have some," said Neddie as they walked away.

"Some what, son?"

"Ostriches, papa."

"About how many?"

"Couldn't we have an ostrich farm?" asked the little fellow after a
moment's consideration of the question.

"Well, not to-day, my son," returned his father with an amused look.
"There will be plenty of time to talk it over before we are ready to go
into the business."