David Ward, age 13, of Fredericton, New Brunswick, Canada, for his question:

Why don't penguin eggs freeze on the Antarctic ice?

Birds in general are model parents, dutiful and devoted and often very ingenious. Penguins are as dutiful and devoted, and somewhat more ingenious than most. These sterling qualities make it possible for the largest of all penguins to bring up their broods on the South Polar ice cap. The ground is permanently frozen glacial ice. There are no grasses, twigs or other suitable nesting materials to be had. Yet the parent birds see to it that the precious eggs and chicks survive    even through this the season of dark, cruelly cold Antarctic winter.

The well dressed emperor penguin may stand four feet tall and weigh about 90 pounds. He is a cheerful, sociable character, undismayed by Antarctica's worst weather. Come what may, he shares the chilly summer and the bitter winter with a close knit group of perhaps 100,000 other cheerful, sociable emperors. They travel and go fishing together, engage in boisterous aquatic and winter sports together.

The colony's home base is on the ice covered land, quite some distance from the sea where they troop off to stuff themselves with shrimp, squid and assorted fishes. This is the community rookery where each couple brings up an only child    right in the dead of winter. Each parent has huge, flat, unfreezable feet, and below the stomach hangs a loose flap of skin covered with warm, furry feathers. The female lays her one large white egg in May, which is early winter. The male takes charge before it barely touches the icy ground. With his long curved bill he inches the precious egg onto his big feet and cuddles it under his hanging blanket.

The female then departs with a group of other mothers. She waddles and skids, toboggans and sleds on her stomach toward a carefree feast in the sea. Meantime her mate broods the egg, as winter advances to 40 degrees below zero. He gingerly waddles a few steps to huddle close to other incubating emperors, while the bitter blizzards blow. But he gets no food.

After two months, in the dead of winter, the chick hatches. About this time, the female comes romping home from her vacation. Her crop is stuffed with partially digested seafood. Junior opens up and she regurgitates this formula down his hungry throat. It is time now to come to Mama. Both parents fuss and strive to keep him off the ice while they transfer him onto her feet and tuck him under her hanging blanket.

Now the male penguin goes off for a well earned vacation. The deserving fathers aim for the sea, where they swim and dive, feast and play like porpoises. He returns in about three weeks, with a crop full of Junior's formula.

The parents take turns at vacationing and babysitting. Junior's days of being a pampered only child are over when he ventures onto the ice. He enters a rookery swarming with fluffy, friendly chicks and their frantic parents. Every adult feels duty bound to tend the young strays and even those that just might be strays. Until the youngsters are six months old and able to fend for themselves, the place is an uproar, with all the parents striving to tend, feed and protect all the chicks.