ins of salt to the chickens. Say, once I tried to play a trick
on him. I'd got so hungry fer meat I jes' couldn't stand it, so one day
I killed a chick'n, thinkin' he wouldn't miss it. My--my! Wha' d'ye
s'pose? Say, ye never told me yer name yit."

"I am Mary Louise Burrows."

"Highflyin' name, ain't it? Well, I killed thet chick'n, an' cut it up
an' fried it, an' et jes' a leg an' a wing, an' hid the rest under my
bed in the peak up there, where Ol' Swallertail never goes. All the
feathers an' the head I buried, an' I cleaned up the hatchet an' the
fry-in'-pan so's there wasn't a smitch of anything left to prove I'd
murdered one o' them chicks. I was feelin' kinder chirky when Gran'dad
come home, 'cause I thought he'd never find out. But what did the ol'
vill'n do but begin to sniff aroun'; an' he sniffed an' he sniffed till
he says: 'Ingua, what chick'n did ye kill, an' why did ye kill it?'

"'Yer crazy,' says I. 'What're ye talkin' 'bout?'

"Then he gives me one sour look an' marches out to count the chick'ns,
an' when he comes back he says: 'It's the brown pullet with white on
the wings. It were worth forty cents, an' forty cents'll buy ten pounds
o' oatmeal. Where's the chick'n, girl?' 'Et up,' says I. 'Yer lyin','
says he. 'Go git it! Hustle!'

"Well, I saw his claws beginnin' to work an' it scared me stiff. So I
goes to my room an' brings down the chick'n, an' he eyes it quiet-like
fer a long time an' then eats some fer his supper. The rest he locks up
in the cupboard that he allus carries the key to. Say, Mary Louise, I
never got another taste o' that chick'n as long as it lasted! Ol'
Swallertail et it all himself, an' took a week to do it."

During this recital the broom and mop and scrubbing-brush had been
picked up and restored to their proper places. Then the two girls got
out the old shovel and buried the broken dishes in a far corner of the
yard, among high weeds. Mary Louise tried to get the dents out of the
old dishpan, but succeeded only indifferently. It was so battered
through long use, however, that Ingua thought the "jams" would not be
noticed.

"Next," said Mary Louise, "we must replace the broken pieces. I suppose
they sell dishes at the village store, do they not?"

"That's where these come from--long ago," replied Ingua; "but dishes
cost money."

"I've a little money in my purse; enough for that, I'm sure. Will you
go to town with me?"

Ingua stared at her as if bewildered. The propo