14 
OUR HOME BIRDS. 
whalebone — rather frail materials, Malcolm, for bear- 
ing up a well-fed boy of your age.” 
“Well,” replied the young aeronaut, half laughing 
himself, “ I looked at a fly’s wing through the mag- 
nifying-glass, and this seemed to come nearest to it.” 
“ But you are not a fly,” said the governess. “ Be- 
sides, wings to be of any use must be alive — as much 
alive as any other part of you. Do not look so sur- 
prised, children ; we must attend now to our regular 
lessons, but in the reading after tea I will tell you 
something about wings.” 
Once, in the course of the lessons, Malcolm burst 
out laughing ; he suddenly thought of himself as he 
must have appeared when struggling in Patrick’s 
grasp, with his very much tumbled wings and his 
very active feet ; but Miss Harson, who understood 
what was passing in his mind, only smiled gently 
and went on with her explanations. 
“ I have thought of something else, Miss Harson,” 
said Malcolm when recess had come. “ When I was 
quite a small boy” — here the governess looked very 
smiling — “ not more than six, I suppose, Kitty told 
me, one night when I went to bed, that she really 
believed my wings were sprouting ; and that first put 
the idea into my head. Now, what did she mean by 
that if people never have wings ?” 
u What had you been doing ?” asked Miss Harson. 
