Madam Starling looks about with her clear, bright little eyes, and sees that the troublesome sparrows have all gone away; and her faithful mate lights on the topmost bough of a tree nearby, and pours forth a song of rejoicing and of triumph.
But soon the wind blows cold from the north. Ah! old Winter comes back a moment or two just to see what Spring is about. The flakes descend on their black coats; and the starlings come out from their little house, and look about to see what's the matter.
Have they made a mistake? Oh, no! Soon the sun will be out. April has come, and the snow will not last long. They first go to work and clean their little house, pitching out all the rubbish the sparrows have left there.
Straw, feathers, and hay must now be got for a nice fresh nest. This they soon make; and one day Madam Starling shows her mate five or six clear blue eggs in the nest. For nearly sixteen days she must sit brooding on these eggs; and then—what joy!—half a dozen bright little starlings make their appearance.

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