daughter. "We had all we wanted, mother. We couldn't possibly have
used the rest if the birds had not eaten them. We had a cellar full of
canned cherries left over from the year before, you remember, and that
is the way it is nearly every year."

"Yes, yes, I know," answered her mother impatiently; "but for all that
I don't believe in letting the birds have everything."

"I never begrudge a bird what it eats," commented the professor. "Of
course you can discourage the birds, drive them off, break up their
nests, starve them out, and have a crop of caterpillars instead of
cherries. But, beg pardon, madam, maybe you don't object to
caterpillars," and he bowed low to the landlady.

The laugh was against her and I was glad of it, for I didn't consider
it either kind or polite to call us "saucy little thieves."

We were amused one morning when, flying over a piece of pretty country,
we saw a lady moving rapidly along on the red sandy path below. She
seemed to be neither exactly riding nor walking, as she was not on foot
nor had she a horse. On closer inspection it was seen that she was
propelling a strange-looking vehicle. Two of her carriage wheels were
gone, and between the remaining two the lady was perched. At sight of
it I was immediately reminded of the queer thing that Johnny Morris
rode which the admiral had described to us and called a "wheel." I
felt sure that this was the same kind of a machine. The lady looked
neither to the right nor to the left, but her glance was fixed intently
on the road before her.

Farther along another lady leaned against the fence awaiting her