you see, Gavia was within splashing distance of her
fishing-pool after all.

She and her mate, indeed, were in the habit of making their nests here
in the cove; though the two pairs of Neighbor Loons, who built year
after year farther up the lake, chose places on the island near the
water-line in the spring; and when the water sank lower later on, they
were left high and dry where they had to flounder back and forth to and
from the nest, as awkward on land as they were graceful in the water.

Faithful to her unhatched young as Gavia was, it is not likely that she
alone kept them warm for nearly thirty days and nights; for Father Loon
remained close at hand, and would he not help her with this task?

Gavia, sitting on her nest, did not look like herself of the early
winter months when she had played among the ocean waves. For her head
and neck were now a beautiful green, and she wore two white striped
collars, while the back of her feather coat was neatly checked off with
little white squarish spots. Father Loon wore the same style that she
did. Summer and winter, they dressed alike.

Yes, a handsome couple, indeed, waited that long month for the birth of
their twins, growing all this time inside those two strong eggshells. At
last, however, the nest held the two babies, all feathered with down
from the very first, black on their backs and gray shading into white
beneath.

Did I say the nest held them? Well, so it did for a few hours. After
that, they swam the waters of Immer Lake, and their nest was home no
longer. Peter Piper's children themselves were not more quick to run
than Gavia's twins were to swim and dive.

I think, perhaps, they were named Olair; for Gavia often spoke in a very
soft mellow tone, saying, "Olair"; and her voice, though a bit sad, had
a pleasing sound. So we will call them the two Olairs.

They were darlings, those baby loons, swimming about (though not very
fast at first), and diving out of sight in the water every now and then
(but not staying under very long at the beginning). Then, when they were
tired or in a hurry, they would ride on the backs of Gavia and Father
Loon: and they liked it fine, sailing over the water with no trouble at
all, just as if they were in a boat, with someone else to do the rowing.

Oh, yes, they were darlings! Had you seen one of them, you could hardly
have helped wanting to cuddle him. But do you think you could catch one,
even the youngest? Not a bit of i