Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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“But the birds themselves, them as lays these eggs, are cruel brutes.”

“Indeed, how so?”

“They’ll ketch little birds, and spike ’em on a thorn just as an insect-collector sticks a pin through a butterfly, and then they take to stripping the feathers off on ’em, and eat ’em up morsel by morsel.

“These be house sparrers, and their eggs vary in colour most of all birds. Some are quite white, though not often, and others are almost black. They’re twopence.”

“Ah, they are common enough,” remarked the gentleman.

“Yes, sir, they are common, but look at these. This is a golden-crested wren’s nest, with nine eggs; they are not at all common.”

“I suppose not.”

“They are very rare indeed, sir, and the eggs are so tiny and brittle it’s the hardest work in the world to blow ’em without breaking ’em; it’s the smallest bird in Europe, so I’ve b’en told—​the very smallest, and it’s sixpence, being choice and rare.”

“Humph! you’ve got some of all sorts, it seems.”

“This is a cuckoo’s egg, and it is quite a curiosity, not often got hold on. I’ll let it go cheap, as I want money. I’ll take fourpence for it.”