Her big, dark, cunning eyes blazed for an instant, but she knew it was all her fault, and she thought it best to make no fuss.

Hastily she dropped the empty shell over the side of the nest, and then took her place dutifully on the three remaining eggs.

In a few minutes the rest of the crows got tired of scolding the squirrel in his hole and came _ca_-ing back to the pine tree to talk the matter over.

When her mate, all in a fume, hopped onto the edge of the nest, the mother looked up at him with eyes of cold inquiry, as much as to say: 'Well, I'd like to know what all this fuss is about.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, acting that way about a wretched squirrel!' Of course, she may not have said all that.