A LITTLE SOMETHING ABOUT EGGS
"An egg," says Jimmy Skunk, "is good;
It's very good indeed to eat."
"An egg," says Mrs. Grouse, "is dear;
'Twill hatch into a baby sweet."
O in the matter of eggs, as in a great many other
matters, it all depends on the point of view. To Jimmy
Skunk and Unc' Billy Possum eggs are looked on from the
viewpoint of something to eat. Their stomachs prompt
them to think of eggs. Eggs are good to fill empty
stomachs. The mere thought of eggs will make Jimmy and
Unc' Billy smack their lips. They say the "love" eggs,
but they don't. They "like" them, which is quite
 But Mrs. Grouse and most of the other feathered people
of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows and the Old
Orchard really do "love" eggs. It is the heart instead
of the stomach that responds to the thought of eggs. To
them eggs are almost as precious as babies, because
they know that some day, some day very soon, those eggs
will become babies. There are a few feathered folks, I
am sorry to say, who "love" their own eggs, but "like"
the eggs of other people—like them just as Jimmy
Skunk and Unc' Billy Possum do, to eat. Blacky the Crow
is one and his cousin, Sammy Jay, is another.
So in the springtime there is always a great deal of
matching of wits between the little people of the Green
Forest and the Green Meadows and the Old Orchard. Those
who have eggs try to keep them a secret or to build the
 that hold them where none who like to eat them
can get them; and those who have an appetite for eggs
try to find them.
When Unc' Billy Possum suddenly changed the subject by
asking Jimmy Skunk if he had found any nice fresh eggs
lately, he touched a subject very close to Jimmy's
heart. I should have said, rather, his stomach. To tell
the truth, it was a longing for some eggs that had
brought Jimmy to the Green Forest. He knew that
somewhere there Mrs. Grouse must be hiding a nestful of
the very nicest of eggs, and it was to hunt for these
that he had come.
"No," replied Jimmy, "I haven't had any luck at all
this spring. I've almost forgotten what an egg tastes
like. Either I'm growing dull and stupid, or some folks
are smarter than they used to be. By the way, have you
 Grouse lately?" Jimmy looked very innocent as
he asked this.
Unc' Billy chuckled until his sides shook. "Do yo'
suppose Ah'd tell yo' if Ah had?" he demanded. "Ah
reckons Mrs. Grouse hasn't got any mo' aiggs than Ah
could comfortably take care of mahself, not to mention
Mrs. Possum." Here Unc' Billy looked back over his
shoulder to make sure that old Mrs. Possum wasn't
within hearing, and Jimmy Skunk chuckled. "Seems to me,
Brer Skunk, yo' might better do your aigg hunting on
the Green Meadows and leave the Green Forest to me,"
continued Unc' Billy. "That would be no mo' than fair.
Yo' know Ah never did hanker fo' to get far away from
trees, but yo' don't mind. Besides there are mo' aiggs
for yo' to find on the Green Meadows than there are fo'
me to find in the Green Forest. A right
 smart lot of
birds make their nests on the ground there. There is
Brer Bob White and Brer Meadowlark and Brer Bobolink
and Brer Field Sparrow and Brer—"
"Never mind any more, Unc' Billy," interrupted Jimmy
Skunk. "I know all about them. That is, I know all
about where their eggs are. Didn't I just tell you I
haven't had any luck at all? That's why I'm over here."
"Well, yo' won't have any mo' luck here unless yo' are
a right smart lot sharper than your Unc' Billy, and
when it comes to hunting aiggs, Ah don't take mah hat
off to anybody, not even to you', Brer Skunk," replied
Hundreds of additional titles available for
online reading when you join Gateway to the Classics