I don't think _I'd_ like it." He pictured to himself his own substantial mamma swooping erratically through the air, with skirts flying out behind and himself clinging precariously to her neck.

And at the thought he felt a sinking sensation at the pit of his stomach.
"Well, you know, you're not a bat," said Uncle Andy sententiously.

"If you were you'd probably think it much pleasanter, and far _less_ dangerous, than being left at home alone while your mother was out swooping 'round after moths and June bugs.'" "Why ?" demanded the Child promptly.
"Well, you just listen a bit," answered Uncle Andy in his exasperating way.

He hated to answer any of the Child's most innocent questions directly if he could get at them in a roundabout way.

"Once upon a time"-- ("Ugh!" thought the Child to himself, "_this_ is going to be a fairy story!" But it wasn't).