THE PALMIPEDES 87 



mains behind the grating, and goes down into the 

 stomach." 



"You can see, any time," observed Louis, "the 

 ducks on the pond dipping up water by the mouthful. 

 It certainly isn't just for drinking that they work 

 their beaks so." 



"Certainly not," assented Uncle Paul; "they 

 drain the water of the pond through the fringe of the 

 beak to gather worms and other small aquatic prey. 



' ' The spoon-shaped beak of the duck indicates the 

 bird's dabbling habits; now let us see what the feet 

 have to say. They are composed of three toes con- 

 nected by an ample and supple membrane. Is that, 

 I ask you, the footgear of a bird destined to long 

 walks 1 With such a sole, so fine, so tender, and by 

 its extent of surface exposing itself so much to the 

 hardness of the stones, is the duck made for foot- 

 racing? Note, on the contrary, the foot of the hen 

 and the guinea-fowl, both untiring walkers. The 

 toes are short, knotty, and sheathed with strong 

 leather, without any connecting membrane. That is 

 the true footgear of the pedestrian. But what will 

 become of the duck on rough ground, with its wide 

 sandals that a mere nothing can wound! You all 

 know its pitiful walk. It waddles along, as ill at ease 

 as a person afflicted with corns on the rough pave- 

 ment of some of our streets. No, the duck is not 

 made for walking. 



"But in water those expanded feet will make vig- 

 orous swimming oars. If the bird throws them out 

 behind, they spread wide open merely with the re- 



