PETER PIPER 



. Why, almost before one would think they had had 

 time to dry their down and stretch their legs and get 

 used to being outside of shells instead of inside, those 

 little babies walked way to the edge of the river, and 

 from that time forth never needed their nest. 



And look ! the fluffy, cunning little dears are nodding 

 their heads and teetering their tails! Yes, that proves 

 that they must be sandpipers, even if we did have 

 doubts of those eggs. Ah ! Dot knew what she was about 

 all along. The size of her eggs might fool a person, but 

 she had not worried. Why, indeed, should she be trou- 

 bled? Those big shells had held food-material enough, 

 so that her young, when hatched, were so strong and 

 well-developed that they could go wandering forth at 

 once. They did not lie huddled in their nest, helplessly 

 begging Peter Piper and Mother Dot to bring them 

 food. Not they! Out they toddled, teetering along the 

 shore, having picnics from the first — the little gypsy 

 babies ! 



Tabby did not catch any of them, though one night 

 she tried, and gave Dot an awful scare. It was while 

 they were still tiny enough to be tucked under their 

 mother's feathers after sundown, and before they could 

 manage to get, stone by stone, to Nearby Island. So 

 they were camped on the shore, and the prowling cat 

 came very near. So near, in fact, that Mother Dot 



45 



