Peter Rabbit stared up in the blue, blue sky, watching Ol’ Mistah Buzzard sail round and round as only Ol’ Mistah Buzzard can. Peter sighed. It was clear to him that he had learned all he could learn from Ol’ Mistah Buzzard about those eggs which the latter said Ol’ Mrs. Buzzard was caring for.

“He said that they are here or hereabouts, and yet not in a nest,” said Peter to himself. “What he means by that is too much for me. If they are here, I ought to be able to find them. At least, I ought to be able to find Mrs. Buzzard, and of course if I find her, I will find those eggs. It seems simple enough.”

Peter looked this way and looked that way, but mostly up in the trees. Somehow he couldn’t, he just couldn’t believe that Mrs. Buzzard could be anywhere else. But for all his looking he found nothing, and at last he gave up. The puzzle was too much for him. He was just about to start for his home in the dear Old Briar-patch when he heard the voice of Sammy Jay not far off.

“What I can’t find perhaps Sammy can,” thought Peter. “There are mighty few things Sammy Jay can’t find out if he sets out to. Perhaps he knows all about those eggs of Ol’ Mistah Buzzard’s now. Anyway, it won’t do any harm to ask him.”

So off Peter started to look for Sammy Jay. It didn’t take him long to find Sammy, for the latter’s blue coat is easy to see when he is flying about. “Sammy Jay,” began Peter, as soon as he was near enough, “did you ever hear of anybody having eggs and no nest to put them in?”

“Certainly,” replied Sammy promptly.

“Who?” demanded Peter eagerly.

“Boomer the Nighthawk, for one,” replied Sammy.

“What?” cried Peter as if he hadn’t understood, or at least as if he thought he hadn’t understood. There was astonishment in the very tone of his voice.

“Doesn’t Boomer have a nest? If he doesn’t, where does Mrs. Boomer lay her eggs?”

“Where would she lay them, Mr. Curiosity?” retorted Sammy. “She lays them on the ground, or on a flat rock. Mrs. Whip-poor-will does the same thing. I supposed everybody knew that. Where have you been—asleep?”

“No,” retorted Peter shortly, for it rather upset him to learn that he hadn’t known these facts about two of his familiar friends. “But I’m not interested in Boomer and Whip-poor-will just now. It is some one else I want to know about.”

“All right,” replied Sammy. “What have you got on your mind? The sooner you get it off the better. You are looking too excited, Peter. You know too much excitement is bad for your health.”

Sammy Jay was teasing, and Peter knew it. He made up a wry face at Sammy, a good-natured face, you know. Then he laughed as he replied:

“Sammy Jay, tell me, do you know where Mrs. Buzzard lays her eggs?”

Sammy scratched his topknot thoughtfully. “I can’t say that I do,” he replied. Then, noticing how disappointed Peter looked, he hastened to add: “But I guess I can find out if I want to. Why do you want to know?”