“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 such common 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 brown bird—­the hedge-sparrow.  It is not at all the same kind of bird as the house-sparrow, for it is one of the warblers.  It is a prettier bird, and has prettier eggs than the common sparrow.  He builds his nest very early, before the hedges are covered with leaves; so his nest often gets stolen.  He is one of the birds that stay in England all through the winter.—­These speckled eggs of a bluish-gray belong to the linnet, which has a very sweet song, although not very powerful.—­These belong to the chaffinch; they, you see, are greenish-purple spotted with brown.  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 fall to 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 feel it.  Outside it is made of moss, fine dry grass, and wool, all matted together, and covered all over with the lichen which grows on the trunks and branches of trees.  It is often very difficult to find this bird’s nest, it looks so exactly like the part of a tree.”

“Have you a blackbird’s egg?” asked Jack.  “I know his note, for it is clear and louder than that of most of the other birds.”

“Yes, here are some.  You see they are of a bluish-green colour, with dark blotches; and very pretty they are too.—­Those blue eggs with a few black spots on them belong to the thrush.  You must have heard the thrushes singing about grandpa’s garden; there are plenty of them there.”

“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 of the bird, and not particularly pretty.  You see it is a dull-looking egg, whitish, with pale-brown markings.  This particular egg was taken from the nest of a hedge-sparrow; but cuckoos’ eggs have been found in the nests 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.