“Each of you came out of just such an egg as that,” she said. “This one is here because I had it ready to lay, and there was no other good place to put it. You may play with it very carefully, and be sure not to push it out of the nest, for then it would fall on the porch roof and break. You may take turns lying next to it, and before long I will lay another, so you can all be next to an egg at the same time.”
“What are you going to do with them?” asked the Oldest Nestling. “What will become of them when we are old enough to leave the nest?”
“That is the loveliest part of it,” answered their mother. “I shall hatch these eggs, too, and then you can have baby brothers and sisters, perhaps both.”
“But who will take care of us?” asked the Youngest Nestling, and she looked as though she wanted to cry when she spoke.
“Don’t you worry, little Robin,” said her mother cheerfully. “There are always enough people to do the things which have to be done, if they will only keep sweet and not make a fuss. We will all help each other and everything will come out beautifully. This is the first time I ever laid the eggs for the second brood before the first brood was out of the nest, but we shall manage. Besides,” she added, “I believe you are the first little Robins I ever knew who had a chance to help hatch eggs before being grown up. Won’t that be fine?”
Mrs. Robin looked so bright and happy as she spoke that her children were sure it was going to be great fun, and one and all chirped back, “Oh, let’s! We’ll hatch them just as hard as we can.”
Mrs. Robin fixed them with the new egg in the middle of the nest, and went off to help their father find dinner for them. After they had been fed with about fifteen Worms, she laid the second egg. “That will be all for this brood,” she said, “and perhaps it is just as well. Too many eggs would crowd the nest.”
Then she told them what wonderful things eggs are; how what is going to be the young bird is at first only a tiny, soft, stringy thing, floating around inside the shell, with a ball of yellow food-stuff in the middle of the shell and clear white stuff all around it. She told them, too, how this little thing which is to be a bird floats on top of the other stuff, and so is always next to the mother’s breast as she sits over it on the nest. “It is the being warm for a long time and all the time that changes it into a bird strong enough to break the shell. You will remember that, won’t you,” said she, “and keep the top side of the eggs warm when I am not here?”
All the little birds were sure that they could, and very proud to think that she would trust them so. Perhaps if she had said, “Now, don’t you let me catch you leaving those eggs uncovered!” they might have murmured to each other, “What do we care about her old eggs? Let them get cold!” It is a great pity, you know, when people in families get to talking in that way. And the worst of it is that every time one person speaks so, another is almost sure to answer in the same way.
Now the Robin family were all caretakers, and when Mrs. Robin flew up with choice Worms for her children, she gave them loving glances, and said, “You are such helpers! I don’t know how I could get along without you.”