The things we do!

His mate arose from the nest with a
whirr--Freckles looked up and saw it.
"O--ho!" he cried. "So THAT'S what you are doing here! You have a
wife. And so close my head I have been mighty near wearing a bird on my
bonnet, and never knew it!"
Freckles laughed at his own jest, while in better humor he climbed to
examine the neat, tiny cradle and its contents. The hen darted at him in
a frenzy. "Now, where do you come in?" he demanded, when he saw that she
was not similar to the goldfinch.
"You be clearing out of here! This is none of your fry. This is the nest
of me little, yellow friend of the wire, and you shan't be touching it.
Don't blame you for wanting to see, though. My, but it's a fine nest and
beauties of eggs. Will you be keeping away, or will I fire this stick at
you?"
Freckles dropped to the trail. The hen darted to the nest and settled on
it with a tender, coddling movement. He of the yellow coat flew to the
edge to make sure that everything was right. It would have been plain to
the veriest novice that they were partners in that cradle.


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