Redwing chuckled softly. It was a happy, contented sort of chuckle. “No, Peter,” said he. “I am not going to build a nest.” “What?” exclaimed Peter, and his two long ears stood straight up with astonishment. “No,” replied Redwing, still chuckling. “I'm not going to build a nest, and if you want to know a little secret, we have four as pretty eggs as ever were laid.” Peter fairly bubbled over with interest and curiosity. “How splendid!” he cried. “Where is your nest, Redwing? I would just love to see it. I suppose it is because she is sitting on those eggs that I haven't seen Mrs. Redwing. It was very stupid of me not to guess that folks who come as early as you do would be among the first to build a home. Where is it, Redwing? Do tell me.” Redwing's eyes twinkled. “A secret which is known by three Full soon will not a secret be,” said he. “It isn't that I don't trust you, Peter. I know that you wouldn't intentionally let my secret slip out. But you might do it by accident. What you don't know, you can't tell.” “That's right, Redwing. I am glad you have so much sense,” said another voice, and Mrs. Redwing alighted very near to Redwing. Peter couldn't help thinking that Old Mother Nature had been very unfair indeed in dressing Mrs. Redwing. She was, if anything, a little bit smaller than her handsome husband, and such a plain, not to say homely, little body that it was hard work to realize that she was a Blackbird at all. In the first place she wasn't black. She was dressed all over in grayish-brown with streaks of darker brown which in places were almost black. She wore no bright-colored shoulder patches. In fact, there wasn't a bright feather on her anywhere. Peter wanted to ask why it was that she was so plainly dressed, but he was too polite and decided to wait until he should see Jenny Wren. She would be sure to know. Instead, he exclaimed, “How do you do, Mrs. Redwing? I'm ever so glad to see you. I was wondering where you were. Where did you come from?” “Straight from my home,” replied Mrs. Redwing demurely. “And if I do say it, it is the best home we've ever had.” Redwing chuckled. He was full of chuckles. You see, he had noticed how eagerly Peter was looking everywhere. “This much I will tell you, Peter,” said Redwing; “our nest is somewhere in these bulrushes, and if you can find it we won't say a word, even if you don't keep the secret.” Then Redwing chuckled again and Mrs. Redwing chuckled with him. You see, they knew that Peter doesn't like water, and that nest was hidden in a certain clump of brown, broken-down rushes, with water all around. Suddenly Redwing flew up in the air with a harsh cry. “Run, Peter! Run!” he screamed. “Here comes Reddy Fox!”