e poem, that it is
"witchery, witchery, witchery," and now we wonder that we could have
been so stupid as not to have discovered it was exactly that, long ago.
But the glory of the summer were the orioles and the scarlet tanagers;
the orioles with their marvellous notes, and the tanagers in their
scarlet golfing coats glinting here and there in the sunshine. Nests
everywhere, and Tattine on one long voyage of discovery, until she knew
where at least twenty little bird families were going to crack-shell
their way into life. But there was one little family of whose
whereabouts she knew nothing, nor anyone else for that matter, until
"Hark, what was that?"--Mabel and Rudolph and Tattine were running
across the end of the porch, and it was Rudolph who brought them to a
standstill.

"It's puppies under the piazza, that's what it is," declared Tattine;
"where ever did they come from, and how ever do you suppose they got
there?"

"I think it's a good deal more important to know how you'll ever get
them out," answered Rudolph, who was of a practical turn of mind.

"I'll tell you what," said Tattine thoughtfully, "shouldn't wonder if
they belong to Betsy. I've seen her crowding herself through one of the
air-holes under the piazza several times lately," whereupon the children
hurried to peer through the air hole. Nothing was to be seen, however,
for the piazza floor was not more than a foot and a half from the
ground, and it was filled with all sorts of weeds that flourished
without sunshine. Still the little puppy cries were persistently wafted
out from some remote corner, and, pulling off his jacket, Rudolph
started to crawl in and investigate. It did not seem possible that he
could make his way, for the place was not high enough for him even to
crawl on his hands and knees, and he had rather to worm himself along on
his elbows in quite indescribable fashion. Still, Tattine and Mabel were
more than ready to have him try, and waited patiently, bending over with
their hands upon their knees, and gazing in through the weed-grown hole
in breathless, excited fashion.

"I believe I'll have to give it up," Rudolph called back; "the cries
seem as far off as ever and I'm all but scratched to pieces." "Oh,
don't! don't!" cried Tattine and Mabel, in one breath, and Mabel added,
"We MUST know what they are and where they are. I shall go in myself if
you come out."

"Well, you wouldn't go more than three feet then, I can tell you," a