"Tell you that? I can't. They're made so." But the general did not speak as gruffly as usual, and emboldened, she proceeded.
"Well, but what bird is it that sings—sings just as if it were summer?"
"A robin, of course, you ignorant little thing. Given a bit of sunshine, a robin will sing all the year round."
"Oh," said Leo, profoundly attentive, "all the year round, will he? Why, I wonder?"
"If you come to 'whys' you may 'why' for ever. Why does a swallow build on a housetop and a lark in a meadow? Why does a stork stand on one leg——"
"Oh, and I saw a heron to-day," cried she vivaciously. "Now where did that heron come from?"
"From Lord St. Emeraud's heronry. They often fly over here in the winter."
"What for, father?"
"Bless my soul, Leo, how can I tell you what for? What's all this sudden interest in natural history about? Get a book and read it up,"—and he was turning away, but this was just what he was not to do.
"Can't you sit down and talk to me a little?" quoth Leo, plaintively; "I don't care for those kind of books much. And you could tell me a lot I want to know; about seabirds, for instance. I never can understand how some can swim and some can't. And then there are the birds that go away in the autumn——"