ets and goldfinches chiefly. They get nightingales, too, out of
these woods: they are very easy birds to trap, as they are not shy; but
it is now rather too late to catch them. The bird-catchers are after
them about the middle of April, when they first come back to England."
"Do nightingales sing only at night, Tom?"
"No; they sing pretty nearly all day long, only you don't notice them
because other birds are singing too. They begin their night song between
ten and eleven o'clock, when other birds are quiet, and that's the time
to hear them if you happen to be awake. There's Charley Foster's house,
that low white house on the left hand side of the road. There's Charley,
too, looking out for us."
Charley was two or three years older than Tom, but having the same
tastes they were often together.
Charley took them at once to his "den," as he called it, a small room at
one end of the straggling house, reached by a long passage.
"Here," said Charley, "I can do what I like, and make my litters without
disturbing anybody."
Not but that the room was orderly, otherwise Charley would never have
been able to find his things when he wanted them.
He told Jack that he had already put up a box of birds' eggs for him,
with a list and description of the eggs in it.
[Illustration: CHARLEY FOSTER'S COLLECTION.
_Page 68._]
"I'm tremendously obliged to you, I'm sure," said Jack.
"Not at all," said Charley; "I like to give to any one who really cares
for such things: besides, I've not been very generous, as I have only
put in those eggs of which I have other specimens. There are some very
good sorts, though, in your box; for, you see, I've been collecting for
some time. Tom, I've got an owl's egg for you, that white one, and two
jay's eggs--dull green, speckled with olive brown. Look here, too! I've
got a jay itself, which a farmer who lives near here shot and gave to
me. I'm going to try and stuff it."
"What pretty blue and black wings it has!" said Jack.
"Yes; it's a handsome but a very thievish bird. It's very clever, too,
in imitating all kinds of sounds that it hears. It will bleat like a
lamb, mew like a cat, neigh like a horse, and imitate the sawing of
wood exactly."
"How are the red starts getting on?" asked Tom.
"All right," said Charley; "the young birds are hatched now."
Charley turned to Jack, and explained that there was a pair of red
starts that had a nest just outside of the window of the room
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