“Why, he’ll smash and hammer a poor little worm or a bug he catches till there isn’t a spark of life left. Oh, I don’t believe in harming the birds,” Walter hastily added as he saw a look of surprise on Dan’s face. “It isn’t that. Only when I hear so much about saving the birds, I can’t help thinking of the poor little grubs and bugs his birdship doesn’t have any mercy for. See? Why don’t we try to save the bugs and worms as well as the birds?” “If you lived on a farm you’d know the reason why.” “What is it?” “They kill the crops.” “So we kill them because they affect our pockets. Is that it?” “I guess it is.” “Then it isn’t wrong to kill things that take what we want. It’s only wrong to kill what doesn’t interfere with our plans.” “Have it your own way,” said Dan, somewhat puzzled by his friend’s apparent seriousness. “My conscience doesn’t trouble me when I kill the grasshoppers and――――” “And yet the grasshopper is a wonderful creature. He makes his music with his hind legs.” “Who told you that?” sniffed Dan scornfully. “Everybody knows it――unless he lives in the country.” “I guess that is the kind of talk you hear on Broadway.” “It’s true, no matter where you hear it.” “You say it is; that’s why you think it’s so.” “No, sir. I say it because it is true, Dan. What does a squirrel do in the winter? Does he go to sleep the way the bears do, or does he――――” “I guess he does,” broke in Dan. “You can ask more questions than a four-year-old boy.” “But you don’t answer me. If I lived all the year where you do I’d find out some of these things.” “That’s all right. It’s a good way.” “Of course it is.” “Who printed the first newspaper in New York?” “I don’t know. Do you?” “I do. It was William Bradford. He established the first printing-press in New York in 1693. There’s a tablet to his memory at the Cotton Exchange. Who was the mayor of New York when the present City Hall was built?” “I give it up. Can you tell?” “Yes, sir. DeWitt Clinton. Where can one find statues of Franklin and Greeley in New York City?” “I know that――Printing House Square,” laughed Walter. “Good. What is Franklin holding in his hand?” “I give it up. What is it?” “A copy of his first newspaper――‘The Pennsylvanian.’ Where is the Peter Cooper pear tree?” “Let’s go out on the pond and try the pickerel.” “All right; only the next time you suggest that I ought to know all about the habits of the squirrels and the bugs, I’m going to ask you about Minetta Creek――――” “What’s that?” “That is the name of the little creek in Greenwich village――――” “You know a lot, Dan. I guess you’ve got me all right. I won’t say anything more about a fellow finding out what is going on where he lives until I learn a little more about my own town. Where did you find all this out――I mean the things you’re telling me?” “I read about them, same as you read about grasshoppers.” “Come on,” said Walter, rising as he spoke. “Look out for snakes, Dan.”