"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Quack." Peter was very humble. "I do indeed.
Please forgive me. Is--is Mrs. 'Gator's nest at all like yours?"

Peter seemed so truly sorry for having doubted her that Mrs. Quack
recovered her good nature at once. "No," said she, "it isn't. If I
hadn't seen her make it, I wouldn't have known it was a nest. You see,
one spring I got hurt so that I couldn't take my usual long journey to
the Far North and had to spend the summer way down in the Southland
where I always lived in the winter, and that is how I happened to learn
about Mrs. 'Gator's nest and eggs and a lot of other things. Mrs. 'Gator
is lazy, but she is smart. She's smart enough to make Mr. Sun do her
work. What do you think of that?"

Right away Peter was all excitement. You see, that sounded as if there
might be a story behind it. "I never have heard of such a thing!" he
cried. "How did she learn to do such a smart thing as that? Of course I
don't for a minute believe that she herself discovered a way to get Mr.
Sun to work for her. Probably it was her ever-so-great-grandmother who
first did it. Isn't that so, Mrs. Quack?"

Mrs. Quack nodded. "You've guessed it, Peter," said she. "It all
happened way, way back in the days when the world was young."

"Tell me about it! Please, please tell me about it, Mrs. Quack, and the
first chance I get, I'll do something for you," begged Peter.

Mrs. Quack carefully went over all her feathers to see that every one
was in place, for she is very particular about how she looks. When she
was quite satisfied, she turned to Peter, fidgeting on the bank.