"Well, then, if you know that much, and don't know what the odd egg is,
you must be a fool," said he.

It is hard to be insulted by a sparrow, and, as it is, I have toned down
the expression, but I preserved a meek silence.

"Any one," he went on, with bland condescension, "who has seen a few
clutches of sparrows' eggs, and has not noticed that there is an odd egg
in each clutch, must be an uncommonly poor observer."

"It is not in the books," I ventured to protest.

"Books!" he screamed, "books! What do the people who write books know
about sparrows? And yet, do you know that there has been more ink spilt
over sparrows than over any other bird? that laws innumerable have been
passed concerning sparrows? that associations have been formed to
exterminate sparrows? that--that--that----"

[Illustration: THERE IS AN ODD EGG IN EACH CLUTCH.]

The excitement was too much for him; he had been keeping time with his
tail to this declamatory crescendo. With the last effort he cocked it a
shade too high, lost his balance, and landed, considerably ruffled, some
four feet beneath his own reserved and particular twig. His eye was on me,
and I felt it too serious a matter for laughter. He made what was
evidently intended for a dignified ascent, choosing, with minute
exactness, the steps he had originally employed on my approach. It was a
full minute before he broke the silence, and for that full minute I had to
preserve my gravity.

[Illustration: IT WAS A FULL MINUTE BEFORE HE BROKE THE SILENCE.]

"Have you any clutches by you?" he said at last.

I had, and fetched them.

"Now," said he, "look at that one, four dark and one light; look at this,
four light and one dark; and at this, six light mottled, and one among
them with a few black spots."

I had to admit that it seemed true.

"True," said he, "of course it's true. Didn't I tell you that I was the
odd egg myself?"

"Well, _one_ of you had to be the odd egg, I suppose?"

"Wrong again," said he. "What you don't seem to realize is, that the odd
egg is nearly always addled; in my case it wasn't."

"Then, in your case," said I, "there was one more mouth to feed than your
parents expected. How did they take it?"

"Mother kept it quiet as long as she could," said he.

"And father?"

"Father didn't find out for a day or two, and when he did, he pushed one
of my brothers over the side of the nest--he did holler for his life!"

The little beast was actually chucklin