So the child slipped her little hand in King's, and they led the family procession for a while. The monkeys were a great source of amusement, and Rosy Posy thought some of the chimpanzees were little old men, they chattered so glibly. But the birds proved a delight to all. "Oh!" cried Marjorie. "Will you look at those red and blue parrots!" "Parrakeets," corrected Mr. Maynard. "And fine ones, too. And how beautiful are the white ones with yellow topknots." They studied, with some care, the names and homes of the birds, and learned to distinguish the toucans and orioles and other beautiful, bright-colored species. Then on to the big, wise-eyed owls, who blinked and winked at them in a sleepy sort of a way. The eagles came next, and all were proud of the National bird, as they viewed the fine specimens on exhibition. The bald eagle and the white eagle were favorites, and the vultures and condors were disliked by all. An interesting structure was an immense cage, which was larger than any house, and entirely open to view. They walked round all four sides of it, and were enchanted with its beautiful occupants pants. Storks and flamingoes stood about, on one leg, motionless, as if absorbed in deep contemplation. Pelicans, with their strange bills, and ducks of most brilliant plumage waddled around and seemed to be entirely interested in their eager audience. In another enclosure, cranes and adjutant birds flapped their great wings, and made long, hopping jumps, and then stood still, as if posing for their pictures. Marjorie proved herself specially quick in picking out each bird, from its descriptive placard, and she learned the names, both English and Latin, of many of them. "You don't mind going to school this way, do you. Midget?" asked her father. "Not a bit! I love it. If I could learn all my lessons out of doors, and with you to help teach me, I'd be willing to study all the time." "Well, we must come here again some day," said Mr. Maynard, "and see if you remember all these jawbreaker names. Now, let's visit the beavers." The beaver pond was a strange sight, indeed. Originally there had been many tall trees standing in the swampy enclosure, but now nearly all of them lay flat in the water. The little busy beavers had gnawed around and into the trunks, near the ground, until the tree toppled and fell over. "Why do they do it, Father?" asked King, greatly interested. "They want to make bridges across the water," answered Mr. Maynard. "It shows a wonderful sagacity, for they gnaw the trunk of the tree, at first such a place, and in just such a way, that the tree will fall exactly in the direction they want it to." "They must scamper to get out of the way when a tree is about to fall," observed Mrs. Maynard.