aid Max, "and that always counts. Stuff about being a
gentleman; the Prince of Wales won't give up being king to let his
sister be queen, will he?"

This was rather a poser.

"Papa says," Dolly began, but she stopped suddenly. "Oh Maxie," she
went on, in _quite_ a different tone of voice, "what _is_ coming into
Farmer Wilder's field? It isn't turkeys this time. Oh, Maxie, what can
it be?"

[Illustration: There's only twelve.]

For they were both at their posts, though for the last few minutes Max
had not been giving much attention to the outside world, and I rather
fancy too, that Dolly's eyes were quicker than his.

He turned to the window now--it _was_ a very nice look-out certainly, at
that side of the house. First there was their own lawn, which the
gardeners were now busy "machining," as the children called it, and
skirting it at the right the broad terrace walk where the dogs loved to
follow their father as he walked up and down, often reading as he went.
Then on the left there were the "houses," where there was always some
bustle of washing the glass or moving the pots, or watering or
_something_ going on. And though hidden from the view of the front of
the house, there was, farther back, a path to the poultry-yard, where
two or three times a day their mamma's pet beauties were fed, and the
noise and chatter of the pretty feathered creatures could be heard even
through the closed nursery windows. For this was not the big
poultry-yard, but their mother's own particular one. And most
interesting of all, perhaps, further off beyond the lawn, divided from
it by a "ha-ha," there was the great field let to Farmer Wilder, where
all sorts of creatures were to be seen in their turn; sometimes cattle,
sometimes sheep, sometimes only two or three quiet old horses. There had
been nothing but horses there lately--not since the turkeys had been
taken away--so it was no wonder that Dolly's eyes were caught by the
sight of a sudden arrival of new-comers.

[Illustration: "There are thirteen"]

There they came--rushing, scrambling, tumbling over each other--one,
two, three--no, it was impossible to count them as yet--they were just a
mass of rolling jerking black specks against the green grass, and for a
minute or two, the children stared and gazed and wondered, in complete
silence.

What could they be?

"Are they little bears?" Dolly was on the point of saying, only she
stopped short for fear of Maxie's laughing at he