irl had hurried away after giving him the chickens--could not
tell which leghorn suffered the guillotine first. His sanguinary work
being done, the little girl returned and carried the dead fowls into the
coal-shed, where she tied their toes together and hung them over a nail.

Early next morning the eldest brother was awakened by a prolonged
falsetto crow,--the familiar disturbing salute of the chanticleer he had
beheaded the night before! Puzzled and wondering, he got up, ran to the
eastern window of the attic, and looked down upon the yard. An amazing
discovery repaid his promptness. For, as the chicken once more raised
its voice, he saw that the mysterious rooster was still alive! So was
Sassy! They were combined in one and the same bird! Two innocent
chickens had been sacrificed!

So, until the next spring,--the spring following the fire, and one ever
memorable for its wonderful grass and flowers, its gentle rains and
windless, sunny days,--Sassy continued to exasperate the family, winning
only censure. But when the depleted flock could not furnish half the
eggs the family needed, she took it upon herself to lay one daily, and
was considerate ate enough to render it unnecessary for the little girl
to go out and bring it in, by depositing it in the hay-twist box behind
the kitchen stove, in the linen-barrel in the entry, or on the canopied
bed. Then she found an appreciative friend in the little girl's mother,
who, whenever she heard a proud, discordant announcement, half crow,
half cackle, blessed the little white hen as she hurried to secure the
offering.

One afternoon during Sassy's career of prolificacy, the little girl
remembered that her best thick dress was so threadbare that she would
need a brand-new one for the next winter. She found, too, that if she
was to have one she must devise a way to swell the small amount in the
tin savings-bank; for the big brothers declared they would be able only
to pay the heavy debt upon the farm and victual the house for the stormy
months to follow. So she hit upon the idea of raising chickens, and
broached it to her mother. The latter, remembering the sorry Christmas
just past, at once presented her with Sassy, promising that all the eggs
the leghorn laid should be credited to the little girl at the general
merchandise store at the station, and that all the chicks hatched out by
Sassy should go the same way.

The little girl was jubilant over the plan, and each morning