apart?"

"Not--not much, I am afraid," admitted Jess, "And here are four of
them! Well, we ought to learn a good deal about it by the time we have
butchered all four."

"Ugh! I don't want to cut into them. And some of their insides are the
delicacies of the chicken, while other parts are no good. Do you know
one from the other, Jess?"

"I reckon I know the giblets--if I can once get at them," said Jess.

"Mother and I took our sewing machine to pieces once, and fixed it,"
Nellie said, "and that was pretty complicated. But we had a book of
instructions----"

"They don't issue a book of instructions with a roasting chicken,"
Jess chuckled. "It's up to us, I expect----"

Then she called Lance. They had to admit a boy _was_ good for
something once in a while. Lance knew all about cleaning and drawing
chickens, and he did _that_ part of the work very neatly and with
dispatch.

It being such warm weather the girls made dressing enough to stuff
only two of the chickens. They got on bravely with their share of the
work and were ready to put the chickens in the oven in the big
dripping-pan when Laura's and Bobby's cakes were done.

Meanwhile Reddy and Short and Long had been very busy with the
ice-cream freezer. The boys had brought over a can of milk and a big
block of ice from the landing and Mrs. Morse had made the ice-cream.
The boys froze it and packed it down in the shade.

Everybody began to get hungry early, for the odors from the cook-tent
had been most delicious. As soon as the chickens and the baked
potatoes were done, supper was served. Liz, in a clean dress and a
clean apron served it.

Everything was fine except the chicken stuffing. There was something
just a little queer about _that_; but what it was nobody seemed able
to tell.

"I know I seasoned it with that same prepared seasoning of herbs that
we use at home," wailed Jess.

"You must have left something out," said Nellie, despairingly.

Chet was tasting the dressing critically. "No," he said, without a
smile. "I don't think you could have done _that_."

Jess brightened visibly. "Then it doesn't taste so bad?" she said,
hopefully.

"There's nothing you could have left _out_, Jess, that would make it
taste like this. It's something you've put in----"

Liz suddenly presented herself at the table shaking a box in her hand.
"Was _this_ what you took for seasonin' for that stuffin'?" she
demanded, solemnly.

"Why--yes," admitted Jess. "Tha