"No," twittered Bub nervously. "Don't expect to. I'm for the seaboard."
"That would be sense," said the old bachelor, "if it weren't for the Statue of Liberty."
"The what?"
"It's a big light—you never know just what it is, because when you fly into it to see, it breaks your neck and all the other worthless bones in your body."
"I'm not agoing to fly into any light."
"You think you won't," said the bachelor ominously. "But first your brains will scatter figuratively, and then—literally. Too bad!—too bad!"
All the young birds shuddered.
"Those big snakes in the South are rather nasty things, too," continued the bachelor bird. "I'm used to them, of course, and I've proved dozens of times that there's no such thing as hypnotism; but the effect of a snake's eye on very young and inexperienced birds is inconceivable, and not to be reconciled to the Darwinian theory or Mendel's law. What between snakes, hawks, and women's hats, the life of a bird—"
"Isn't what it used to be."