her timidly.

Creaker shook his head. "Not quite," said he. "She likes plain black
better. Some of the feathers on her back shine like mine, but she says
that she has no time to show off in the sun and to take care of fine
feathers."

"Where is she now?" asked Peter.

"Over home," replied Creaker, pulling a white grub out of the roots of
the grass. "We've got a nest over there in one of those pine-trees on
the edge of the Green Forest and I expect any day now we will have four
hungry babies to feed. I shall have to get busy then. You know I am
one of those who believe that every father should do his full share in
taking care of his family."

"I'm glad to hear you say it," declared Peter, nodding his head with
approval quite as if he was himself the best of fathers, which he isn't
at all.

"May I ask you a very personal question, Creaker?"

"Ask as many questions as you like. I don't have to answer them unless I
want to," retorted Creaker.

"Is it true that you steal the eggs of other birds?" Peter blurted the
question out rather hurriedly.

Creaker's yellow eyes began to twinkle. "That is a very personal
question," said he. "I won't go so far as to say I steal eggs, but I've
found that eggs are very good for my constitution and if I find a nest
with nobody around I sometimes help myself to the eggs. You see the
owner might not come back and then those eggs would spoil, and that
would be a pity."

"That's no excuse at all," declared Peter. "I believe you're no better
than Sammy Jay and Blacky the Crow."

Creaker chuckled, but he did not seem to be at all offended. Just then
he heard Mrs. Creaker calling him and with a hasty farewell he spread
his wings and headed for the Green Forest. Once in the air he seemed
just plain black. Peter watched him out of sight and then once more
headed for the dear Old Briar-patch.

CHAPTER XX. A Fisherman Robbed.

Just out of curiosity, and because he possesses what is called the
wandering foot, which means that he delights to roam about, Peter Rabbit
had run over to the bank of the Big River. There were plenty of bushes,
clumps of tall grass, weeds and tangles of vines along the bank of the
Big River, so that Peter felt quite safe there. He liked to sit gazing
out over the water and wonder where it all came from and where it was
going and what, kept it moving.

He was doing this very thing on this particular morning when he happened
to glance up in the blue, blue sk