"'Nonsense!' Mr. Fido said, turning up his lip till he showed a fine set
of white teeth, and tilting his puggy nose. 'What good are your wings?
Why, I heard Mr. Man tell his boy Tommy last night that wings were of no
use to chickens, except to fly over the fence with.'

"'Well,' said Mr. Shanghai, scratching his topknot with his left claw,
and looking wise, 'you see there are times when it's better to be on one
side of the fence than the other.'

"'That's a wise remark, Mr. Shanghai,' Mr. Fido snapped. 'You must have
a great head; but what good will it do you in a race to the pond? Come
on! I'll show you what can be done. Here's where four feet beats two
feet--yes, and wings thrown in, if you want them.'

"'What is the course?' Mr. Shanghai asked.

"'A straight line to the pond. Are you ready?'

"'All ready!' said Mr. Shanghai, and off they went.

"It was a close race to the barn-yard fence. Mr. Shanghai ran hard with
his neck stretched out; but Mr. Fido went on easily, laughing to think
how easy it would be to win.

"But when he came to the fence Mr. Fido stopped. He couldn't get over,
and it took quite a while to creep through. He wiggled and pushed
anxiously; but Mr. Shanghai, spreading his big wings, flew over, and was
at the pond a full minute before Mr. Fido got on the other side of the
fence.