It was a rare one.

Nobody liked eggs better than he did, or got fewer of them.

Like a flash he was over from the fir branches into the pine ones, and up and into the nest.
"His sharp teeth went into the nearest egg, and he drank its contents greedily--and cleverly, let me tell you, for it's not so easy to manage without getting it all over your fur.

He was just going to begin on another when there was a sharp hiss of wings just above him and a loud _ca-ah_ of alarm.

The father bird was back and swooping down upon him.
He threw himself clear of the nest, fell to a lower branch, and raced out to its tip to spring into his fir tree.