A YOUNG Ostrich came to its Mother, groaning with pain and with its
wings tightly crossed upon its stomach.
'What have you been eating?' the Mother asked, with solicitude.
'Nothing but a keg of Nails,' was the reply.
'What!' exclaimed the Mother; 'a whole keg of Nails, at your age!
Why, you will kill yourself that way. Go quickly, my child, and
swallow a claw-hammer.'