Toward the mouth of the river head-winds delayed him, and he was twenty-four days on the egg diet.
"Lost Face" by Jack London
Up there the eggs and young are safely rocked by the wind and sheltered by leaves.
"Citizen Bird" by Mabel Osgood Wright and Elliott Coues
Occasionally we are tossed about like an egg-shell, the winds at a distance soon throwing this part of the sheet into commotion.
"A Residence in France" by J. Fenimore Cooper
Off Egg Islands, on the night of August 22, there was fog and a strong east wind.
"Canada: the Empire of the North" by Agnes C. Laut
I sit down, brood over my ideas, and find that they are all wind-eggs.
"The Goose Man" by Jacob Wassermann
Five eggs were laid, and incubation was far advanced, when the storms and winds came.
"Bird Stories from Burroughs" by John Burroughs
If I liked, I could lay a wind-egg; but the world is not worth a wind-egg.
"What the Moon Saw: and Other Tales" by Hans Christian Andersen
But the world is not worth even a wind-egg.
"Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen" by Hans Christian Andersen
I could lay a wind egg if I liked, but the world is not worth a wind egg.
"Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales" by Hans Christian Andersen
Buildings had gone down as mere egg shells before that death-dealing wind.
"The Complete Story of the Galveston Horror" by Various
Here we saw the process of winding the silk from the worm: the cocon or egg is thrown into boiling water to dissolve the gum.
"Four Years in France" by Henry Digby Beste
Wind strips of the bright calico around the eggs and boil in water strongly saturated with lye.
"Home Occupations for Boys and Girls" by Bertha Johnston
Thirty-four eggs, representing 20.24%, disappeared due to wind, abandonment of nest, and unknown causes.
"Life Histories of North American Wood Warblers Part One and Part Two" by Arthur Bent
So I reeled up the aisle with me braces broke
While crowds pelted me with bad eggs
When the Parson said, "Look what the wind's blown in."
She hit him with one of her legs.
"Devil May Not Care" by Billy Bennett
Brooding light falls soft and warm,
Where in many a wind-rocked nest,
Curled up 'neath the she-bird's breast,
Clustering eggs are hid from harm;
While the mellow-throated thrush
Warbles in the purpling bush.
"The Street-Children's Dance" by Mathilde Blind