Peter looked up to see a bird a little smaller than Welcome Robin. His head, throat and back were black. His wings were black with patches of white on them. But it was his breast that made Peter catch his breath with a little gasp of admiration, for that breast was a beautiful rose-red. The rest of him underneath was white. It was Rosebreast the Grosbeak.

"Isn't he lovely!"' cried Peter, and added in the next breath, "Who is that with him?"

"Mrs. Grosbeak, of course. Who else would it be?" sputtered Jenny rather crossly, for she was still a little put out because she had been laughed at.

"I would never have guessed it," said Peter. "She doesn't look the least bit like him."

This was quite true. There was no beautiful rose color about Mrs. Grosbeak. She was dressed chiefly in brown and grayish colors with a little buff here and there and with dark streaks on her breast. Over each eye was a whitish line. Altogether she looked more as if she might be a big member of the Sparrow family than the wife of handsome Rosebreast. While Rosebreast sang, Mrs. Grosbeak was very busily picking buds and blossoms from the tree.