fortable, no matter what the weather
is. I wouldn't trade with him, though. No, sir, I wouldn't trade with
him for anything. Give me a hollow in a tree well lined with feathers to
a nest made of mud and straw, even if it is feather-lined."

"Do you mean that such a neat-looking, handsome fellow as Forktail uses
mud in his nest?" cried Johnny.

Skimmer bobbed his head. "He does just that," said he. "He's something
like Welcome Robin in this respect. I--"

But Johnny Chuck never knew what Skimmer was going to say next, for
Skimmer happened at that instant to glance up. For an instant he sat
motionless with horror, then with a shriek he darted out into the air.
At the sound of that shriek Mrs. Skimmer, who all the time had been
sitting on her eggs inside the hollow of the tree, darted out of her
doorway, also shrieking. For a moment Johnny Chuck couldn't imagine what
could be the trouble. Then a slight rustling drew his eyes to a crotch
in the tree a little above the doorway of Skimmer's home. There, partly
coiled around a branch, with head swaying to and fro, eyes glittering
and forked tongue darting out and in, as he tried to look down into
Skimmer's nest, was Mr. Blacksnake.

It seemed to Johnny as if in a minute every bird in the Old Orchard had
arrived on the scene. Such a shrieking and screaming as there was! First
one and then another would dart at Mr. Blacksnake, only to lose courage
at the last second and turn aside. Poor Skimmer and his little wife were
frantic. They did their utmost to distract Mr. Blacksnake's attention,
darting almost into his very face and then away again before he could
strike. But Mr. Blacksnake knew that they were powerless to hurt him,
and he knew that there were eggs in that nest. There is nothing he
loves better than eggs unless it is a meal of baby birds. Beyond hissing
angrily two or three times he paid no attention to Skimmer or his
friends, but continued to creep nearer the entrance to that nest.

At last he reached a position where he could put his head in the
doorway. As he did so, Skimmer and Mrs. Skimmer each gave a little cry
of hopelessness and despair. But no sooner had his head disappeared in
the hole in the old apple-tree than Scrapper the Kingbird struck him
savagely. Instantly Mr. Blacksnake withdrew his head, hissing fiercely,
and struck savagely at the birds nearest him. Several times the same
thing happened. No sooner would his head disappear in that hole than
Scr