22, GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
“T know about birds’ eggs!’’ cried Bobby Bates, a boy 
who, from being undersized, looked much younger than 
he really was; “I’ve got a pint fruit-jar of robins’ eggs.” 
‘But I’ve got a quart jar of mixed eggs,”’ said Dave, “‘and 
they’re mostly little ones, Wrens and Chippy birds and 
such like, so’s I’ve really got more’n Bobby!” he added 
boastfully. 
Gray Lady opened her lips to speak sharply and her 
eyes flashed, for nest-robbing was one of the things she 
most detested. Then she remembered that perhaps these 
children had not only never even dreamed that there was 
any harm in it, but had never heard of the laws that wise 
people had made to protect the eggs of wild birds, as well 
as the birds themselves, from harm. So she hesitated a 
moment while she thought how she might best make the 
matter understood. 
“Why do you like to collect eggs?” she asked. “ Be- 
cause they are pretty?” 
‘““Yes’m, partly,’ drawled Dave, ‘‘and then to see how 
many I can get in a spring.” 
“But do you never think how you worry the mother 
birds by stealing their eggs, and how many more birds 
there would be if you let the eggs hatch out? What the 
rhyme says is true, — 
““The blue eggs in the Robin’s nest 
Will soon have beak and wings and oe 
And flutter and fly away !’ 
Only think, if all those robins’ eggs of yours, Bobby, and 
all your little eggs, Dave, should suddenly turn into birds 
and fly about the room, how many there would be! But 
