128 Bird - Lore She sat happily, and her mate mounted guard and sang on without interruption — and then came the mystery. One day, shortly before the birdlings were due, one blue egg disappeared from the nest — disappeared completely and absolutely. Down on my knees, I searched every inch of the lily-of-the-valley bed beneath the window, the lawn for many feet beyond, and under each neighboring tree, for a fragment of blue shell. But the mystery was never solved. The ledge I thought inaccessible to squirrels, and if a Blue Jay had been pillaging I thought I would see some trace of it. On May 9, I hastened home from an absence of several days in a neighboring town, because I thought there should be young birds in the nest that day, and, scarcely waiting to throw off my TO FILL THOSE ASTONISHINGLY LARGE YELLOW MOUTHS wraps, I flew up to take a peep at the nest, and behold! three wee wriggly, squirmy, grub-like creatures, where the three blue eggs had been! I would not photograph them. I thought it would be taking an unfair advantage of the defenceless little hideous beasties. Now this is where Cock Robin comes in. He turned to and worked valiantly for those little promises, he and their mother alternately bringing worms and Cisco flies, and an occasional mouthful of some over-ripe fruit. They stretched and wriggled every instant of the fleeting space between the calls to open those astonishingly large yellow mouths, which, supported on their slender doddling necks, looked, as a friend well said, like a bowl of yellow lilies. They grew apace, became much sunbrowned, acquired some tiny tufts of fuzz along their little spines and over their ears, and at last, on May 16, their eyes opened.
