A YOUNG Ostrich1 came to its Mother, groaning2 with pain and with its

　　wings tightly crossed upon its stomach.

　　"What have you been eating?" the Mother asked, with solicitude3.

　　"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."