III.
_TOM'S BIRDS' EGGS._
"The goldfinch, and blackbird, and thrush, Are brimful of music and glee;They have each got a nest in some bush, And the rook has built his on a tree."
BERNARD BARTON.
About a mile off, at the other end of the wood, was a village, whichjoined an old town so closely that they seemed to be only one place.
The old town was quiet now; but it had been a very busy place many yearsago, in the old coach days. I cannot tell you how many coaches daily ranthrough it, or changed horses at the different inns, on their way fromLondon to towns in distant parts of England.
Now the railway had stopped every coach, and in the valley, throughthese very woods, the trains rushed along, panting and puffing as ifthey were running a race with Time.
Fortunately, the trains ran through a tunnel at this spot, so the beautyof the woods was not disturbed.
There was a large green belonging to the village, on the edge of whichlived the children's aunt Lizzie, who had married a doctor. She had twochildren--Tom, who was eleven years old, and Katey, who was nine. Theywent to school daily in the adjoining town, so they were unable to seemuch of their cousins, excepting upon half-holidays, as it was nowschool time.
But you must not suppose that Jack and his sisters did nothing but playduring this long visit. As soon as they had settled down, grandmammaengaged a young lady to come to teach them for about two hours everymorning. Woodside was too far from the town for the children to go toschool with their cousins. When they were at home they went to akindergarten school, where they learned in the wisest and pleasantestfashion.
TOM SHOWING THE REDBREAST'S EGGS._Page 29._]
The children always looked forward to the half-holidays, when theyeither went up to their cousins' home, or Tom and Katey came down tothem.
One Saturday afternoon, when they went to the green, Tom showed them hiscollection of birds' eggs. He kept them in shallow boxes full of bran,so that they should not get broken, for he was very careful over them.
Tom's mother told him never to take more than one egg from each nest,unless there were a great many, as there are in wrens' nests, so thatthe mother bird might not grieve.
"Please show us a robin redbreast's egg," said little Annie.
Tom took two or three from under the bran, and showed her the eggs,which were yellowish-gray mottled with red-brown.
"Mrs. Redbreast has not nearly so red a breast as Robin," he said.
"I suppose you have plenty of sparrows' eggs," said Mary, "they are suchcommon birds."
"Yes; here they are. They are rather large for the size of the bird;they are spotted and streaked all over with gray and brown."
"What a lovely pale greenish-blue egg that is!" exclaimed Mary.
"Yes, that it is," said Tom; "and it belongs to a dear little brownbird--the hedge-sparrow. It is not at all the same kind of bird as thehouse-sparrow, for it is one of the warblers. It is a prettier bird, andhas prettier eggs than the common sparrow. He builds his nest veryearly, before the hedges are covered with leaves; so his nest often getsstolen. He is one of the birds that stay in England all through thewinter.--These speckled eggs of a bluish-gray belong to the linnet,which has a very sweet song, although not very powerful.--These belongto the chaffinch; they, you see, are greenish-purple spotted withbrown. See here! I have a nest made by this bird."
"It is perfectly lovely," said Mary.
"It is, indeed; it is one of the most beautiful of all the birds'nests--such a nice round shape, and so firm that it does not easily fallto pieces. Inside it is lined with hair and feathers, and downy things,which make it ever so soft. Just put your finger inside, Annie, and feelit. Outside it is made of moss, fine dry grass, and wool, all mattedtogether, and covered all over with the lichen which grows on the trunksand branches of trees. It is often very difficult to find this bird'snest, it looks so exactly like the part of a tree."
"Have you a blackbird's egg?" asked Jack. "I know his note, for it isclear and louder than that of most of the other birds."
"Yes, here are some. You see they are of a bluish-green colour, withdark blotches; and very pretty they are too.--Those blue eggs with a fewblack spots on them belong to the thrush. You must have heard thethrushes singing about grandpa's garden; there are plenty of themthere."
"I'm afraid you haven't a cuckoo's egg, Tom," said Annie.
"I am so lucky as to have one, Annie. It is very small for the size ofthe bird, and not particularly pretty. You see it is a dull-looking egg,whitish, with pale-brown markings. This particular egg was taken fromthe nest of a hedge-sparrow; but cuckoos' eggs have been found in thenests of many other birds--robin's, and skylark's, and chaffinch's,linnet's, blackbird's, and wren's, and many more besides."
"Why does not the cuckoo build a nest for herself?" asked Annie.
"Nobody seems to know why she doesn't; but there's the fact. When thecuckoo has laid an egg, she carries it in her wide, gaping mouth, andputs it into the nest of another bird that she has chosen for it. Whenthe egg is hatched, the young cuckoo grows so fast that he wants all thenest to himself. He turns the other young birds that have been hatchedwith him out of the nest, and the true parents of these little birdshave to spend all their time in feeding the cuckoo. It takes a greatdeal to feed him, because he grows so fast, and is so much larger thanthey are. They don't seem to mind it though.--Those pale-green eggs withdark-brown spots belonged to a rook's nest in the elm-tree at the bottomof the garden. There's a curious story about those rooks down there, forthey have not been there long. There is an old rookery belonging to theRectory close by our house; and one day the rooks from there came to ourelm-tree. It was in the spring. At last they came frequently, andchattered, and cawed, and flew round and round, as if they did not knowwhat to do about building their nests in it. By-and-by their visitsceased, and they built their nests as usual in the Rectory trees. Thatvery summer, during one still night, a large branch, almost a third ofthe elm-tree, fell to the ground. The rooks seemed to know that thetree was not safe, and so they would not build in it. That was two yearsago; and this spring they have begun to build, and there are severalnests now in our elm-tree. It is most interesting to watch the ways ofrooks; they seem to have a lot of business on hand. There is anotherrookery in the town, in the garden of Mrs. Cross, a friend of mymother's. Rooks always leave the town rookeries for the country as soonas their young ones are able to fly. Now Mrs. Cross noticed that herrooks, after they had gone to the fields, always came back each morningquite early to look after their nests. They stayed a little while totalk over matters; then they flew back again to the fields. One verystormy morning she noticed that instead of the whole flock coming andalighting, one solitary rook ventured through the wind and rain, flyinground and round the trees without settling, and then flew back again tothe others to give his report that all was right in the old home."
"What clever birds they must be!" said Mary.
"They are," said Tom. "There are lots of stories about rooks, but what Ihave told you happened under our very eyes.--I have a sparrow-hawk's egghere, white, spotted with brown. It was given to my father by a man forme. There are not many of these birds about here."
"Oh," said Jack, "I wish I could get a collection of birds' eggs!"
"It is almost too late in the season now," said Tom. "Still, you mightget some from late nests. I can spare you some from mine, to make abeginning. I know a young fellow, who lives about a half-mile off, whohas a large collection of eggs. We'll go and see him one Saturdayafternoon. He is sure to have some to give away, for he is always addingto his store, and he is very good-natured."