"PEEP! PEEP! PEEP!" CRIED THE BABY GOLDFINCHES
"I wonder if the luncheon in our basket would agree with them," remarked the girl, looking at the open mouths reflectively as she perched her own brown body upon the edge of the deep nest.
"Might try it," suggested the boy. "The cop says they're not particular, and what's good enough for us ought to be good enough for them."
So they flew to where the basket hung among the thick leaves of the tree, which had served to prevent the men from discovering it, and crept underneath the cloth that covered it.
"Which do you think they'd like best," asked Chubbins, "the pickles or the cheese?"
"Neither one," Twinkle replied. "The sandwiches will be best for them. Wait; I'll pick out some of the meat that is between the slices of bread. They'll be sure to like that."
"Of course," agreed Chubbins, promptly. "They'll think it's bugs."
So each one dragged out a big piece of meat from a sandwich, and by holding it fast in one claw they managed to fly with the burden to the nest of the goldfinch babies.
"Don't give it to 'em all at once," cautioned the girl. "It would choke 'em."