Brian Wawrykoro, age 11, of Peterborough, Ont., Canada, for his question:

Hour does a penguin protect its eggs from the Antarctic frost?

A lot of news is filtering up to us from the frozen wastes of Antarctica. This frosty region wars studied and surveyed by world Scientists who camped there during the International Geophysical Year. The experts, you can be sure, took time from their work to watch the amusing antics of the penguins, and the penguins seemed just as happy to enjoy human company.

Antarctica is the home of the giant emperor penguin, who stands three feet tall in majestic dignity. He is not a true dinner jacket penguin, though at a distance he may appear to be clothed in black and white. The furry feathers of his back and wings are charcoal grey, tipped with pale Pearl grey. His shirt front is primrose Yellow. His face and head, neck and feet are glossy black. His curved beak is black on top and rosy red below.

This sturdy bird lives and brings up his family on the coldest, bleakest wasteland in the world.. The ground is covered with hard, frozen snow, and the warmest day is usually below freezing. You might think that the emperor would choose to bring up his little princelings during the warmer polar summer. But not at all.

Mrs. Emperor Penguin lays her big white egg in the midst of the long winter night when sub Zero, gales blow ceaselessly over the frozen wastes. There are no leafy twigs from which to make a nest and nothing but ice under her big, flat feet.

Each parent, however, has a loose flap of skin on the lower part of the tummy. This skin is covered with small, scaly feathers which make it as warm as a blanket.

The royal egg is placed on Mama's flat feet and tucked cosily under her flap of feathery skin. She May even waddle a few steps, but after a while, Papa Penguin takes over his share of the precious burden. Carefully, very carefully, the doting parents roll the egg froze Mama's feathery pouch to Papa's feathery pouch, and even during this tricky operation the egg never touches the frosty ground.

The little prince or princess is always an only child, since even such lordly parents could not handle two eggs in such conditions. When the youngster hatches, it is still winter, and he continues to live in his feathery pouches until the spring sun rises and the worst of the Antarctic winter is over.

The emperors are both devoted parents. When it is Mama's turn to baby sit, Junior sits on her flat feet under her cosy rug while Papa goes off to the chilly Sea and devours a snack of fish, shrimps and, perhaps, squid. The food is partly digested in his crop, and he brings this penguin milk home to the baby. Junior squawks and dips his beak way down his father's throat to find his dinner. Soon it is Papa's turn to baby sit while the empress goes off to the seas to find food.