"I suppose we must take all the eggs," said Frank, "for she will not come back to her nest now, as it is all wet with squashed egg."
"Those are not lapwings flying above us, are they?" said Dick.
"No, they are golden plovers. They are not half so pretty as the lapwings. They have no crest, and are much plainer in plumage, and they have more black on them. Look out for their nests in this marshy spot."
"Here is one," said Dick.
Nest of Golden Plover.
"No, that is only a lapwing's, and in a very clever place too; the nest is made, or rather the eggs are placed on the top of a mud-hill, so that when the water rises the eggs will be kept dry."
"Here is a golden plover's, then," said Jimmy, pointing to a depression in the ground, in which were four eggs of the usual plover type, about the same size as the lapwing's, but more blunt in outline, and lighter in ground colour.
"Yes, those are they. Take two of them."