they are _born_ to fly? And why do they make fun of the stupid ones?
And why would you like to be a wild goose? And, and--"

"Stop! stop!" cried Uncle Andy. "I didn't know you had a Gatling
about you when I told you to fire away. You wait and shoot those
questions at Bill, just like that, to-night."

"Well, but why--"

"No, you must not interrupt," insisted Uncle Andy.

"But you _asked_ me! I was just as quiet--"

"I didn't know what I was doing!" said his uncle. "And I can't
possibly answer all those questions. Why, I could never begin to
remember half of them."

"I can," interposed the Babe.

"Oh, you needn't mind," said Uncle Andy, hastily. "But perhaps, if you
listen with great care, you _may_ find answers to some of them in what
I am going to tell you. Of course, I don't promise, for I don't know
what you asked me. But _maybe_ you'll hear something that will throw
some light on the subject."

"Thank you very much," said the Babe.

"There were only two young ones in the nest," said Uncle Andy, in his
sometimes irrelevant way, which seemed deliberately designed to make
the Babe ask questions. "The nest was a big, untidy structure of