rs joined with him. Then Indigo
flew up to the top of a tall tree not far away and began to sing. It
was a lively song and Peter enjoyed it thoroughly. Mrs. Indigo took this
opportunity to slip away unobserved, and when Peter looked around for
Chewink, he too had disappeared. He had gone to tell Mrs. Chewink that
he was quite safe and that she had nothing to worry about.

CHAPTER XXXIII. A Royal Dresser and a Late Nester.

Jenny and Mr. Wren were busy. If there were any busier little folks
anywhere Peter Rabbit couldn't imagine who they could be. You see,
everyone of those seven eggs in the Wren nest had hatched, and seven
mouths are a lot to feed, especially when every morsel of food must be
hunted for and carried from a distance. There was little time for gossip
now. Just as soon as it was light enough to see Jenny and Mr. Wren began
feeding those always hungry babies, and they kept at it with hardly
time for an occasional mouthful themselves, until the Black Shadows came
creeping out from the Purple Hills. Wren babies, like all other bird
babies, grow very fast, and that means that each one of them must have a
great deal of food every day. Each one of them often ate its own weight
in food in a day and all their food had to be hunted for and when found
carried back and put into the gaping little mouths. Hardly would
Jenny Wren disappear in the little round doorway of her home with a
caterpillar in her bill than she would hop out again, and Mr. Wren would
take her place with a spider or a fly and then hurry away for something
more.

Peter tried to keep count of the number of times they came and went but
soon gave it up as a bad job. He began to wonder where all the worms and
bugs and spiders came from, and gradually he came to have a great deal
of respect for eyes sharp enough to find them so quickly. Needless to
say Jenny was shorter-tempered than ever. She had no time to gossip and
said so most emphatically. So at last Peter gave up the idea of trying
to find out from her certain things he wanted to know, and hopped off
to look for some one who was less busy. He had gone but a short distance
when his attention was caught by a song so sweet and so full of little
trills that he first stopped to listen, then went to look for the
singer.

It didn't take long to find him, for he was sitting on the very tiptop
of a fir-tree in Farmer Brown's yard. Peter didn't dare go over there,
for already it was broad daylight