And you must not think that their feathers would _really_ not be worth anything, then. When we talk of a thing not being worth anything, what we really mean is that we cannot sell it for money. Now what are things that you cannot sell for money? I will tell you three. There is the sky, and the air, and the sunlight. You cannot buy or sell them, but do you think they are not worth anything! _I_ think they are worth a good deal. Then there is a good temper; nobody can buy that, but yet what a lot it is worth! Now if the beautiful feathers of the White Egret could not be sold, because the world was better and there were no frozen-hearted women to buy them, yet they would be worth something, although it would not be money. They would be worth love and pity and sympathy and interest and real admiration (which never wants to kill), for all those things would be given to the beautiful bird with its beautiful feathers, and it would be just because of those things that no one would think of killing him. His feathers, then, would be like the smiles on a face. You cannot take those _out_ of the face, and put them in a hat. If you could, then some one would soon say to you: "Will you part with a few of your smiles? They are fashionable in hats just now; I will give you, for a nice, bright one--let me see--half-a-crown." Then you might say that a nice, bright smile was worth half-a-crown. But I think it is worth much more where it is, in your face, though you cannot take it out and get half-a-crown for it. Smiles are not bought for money in _that_ way, but you must remember that what is not worth money is often worth much better things. That is why I wish the feathers of the poor White Egrets were not worth even a penny. If they were not, then, if you were to go to the countries where they live, you would see those feathers on the birds themselves, where they look most beautiful, and you could watch the birds (with the feathers on them) flying through the air, or perched in trees, or walking about in the water and catching fish in it, or building their nests, or feeding their young, or doing all sorts of other interesting and amusing things. And they would not be so rare then; in fact they would be quite common, so that you would not have to go into such out-of-the-way places--yes, and such unhealthy places too--in order to see them. No, they would be all about, so that they would often come to see _you_, instead of your going to see _them_; sometimes, even, they might come into your garden--for why should you not have a garden in another country?--and walk about on the lawn. Think how interesting that would be, and how pretty it would look!--and all because those beautiful white feathers would not be worth anything.