she look down. Uttering an angry cry, she glared down at Paul with fierce round eyes.
"Well, what is it you want?" she asked. "How dare you disturb me in my studies?"
"Excuse me, Mrs. Owl," begged Paul. "The Porcupine sent me to you. He told me that you are the wisest creature he knows of. Surely, you will be able to answer my questions."
"What matter the opinions of the Porcupine to me? What have I to do with your questions?" growled the Owl. "Why should I waste my precious time on such a stupid child as you? You know very well that I can see only at night and the summer nights are so short that I have hardly time enough for my studies. I, too, think over all kinds of questions. One in particular has bothered me for countless years; I have grown old and grey over it, and yet no science in the world has helped me to solve it." The Owl sighed deeply and her countenance became sorrowful.
"And just what is this question of yours?" Paul inquired anxiously.
"Do you think, perhaps, that YOU can answer it, you young saucebox?" sneered the Owl. Around this question hang all the other questions of the world; it is: Why are all people so stupid?"
"Are all people really so stupid?" asked Paul, astonished.
"Yes, and if you don't know that, why do you disturb me? Is it because you have never seen anything that you are so idiotic?"
"Very little," replied the little boy shamefacedly. "You ought to know, dear Mrs. Owl, that I live in a poorhouse, where there are only old folks, and naturally they are all wise."
"Ha, ha, ha," laughed the owl. It sounded most awful in the dark forest. "Ha, ha, ha! You are certainly another splendid example of the stupidity of mankind. So it is in the poorhouse that all
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