nse, Jack!" said Mr.
Franklin. "It is absurd for a boy like you to ask me for so much money.
Incubators are of no good, anyhow. Give me a good old-fashioned hen."

"Perhaps, papa," said Cynthia, demurely, "Jack will give you a good
old-fashioned hen if you let him buy an incubator to raise her with."

Mr. Franklin laughed. Then he grew very grave again.

"There's no doubt about my making something of it," persisted Jack. "I
_wish_ you would let me try, father! I'll pay back whatever you lend me.
Indeed I will. It's only forty dollars for the machine."

Mr. Franklin was very determined. He could seldom be induced to change
his mind, and his prejudices were very strong. Jack's face fell. It was
of no use; he would have to give it up.

Presently Aunt Betsey spoke. She had been an attentive listener to the
conversation, and now she settled herself anew in her rocking-chair, and
folded her hands in the way she always did when she had something of
especial importance to say.

"How much money do you need, Jackie? Forty dollars, did you say?"

"Forty for the incubator," said Jack, rather shortly. He felt like
crying, though he _was_ a boy, and he wished Aunt Betsey would not
question him.

"And then you must buy the eggs," put in Cynthia.

"And what do the chicks live in after they come out?" asked Miss
Trinkett, who knew something about farming, and with all her
eccentricities was very practical.

"They live in brooders," said Jack, warming to his beloved subject. "If
I could buy one brooder for a pattern I could make others like it. I'd
have to fence off places for the chicks to run in, and that would take a
little money. I suppose I'd have to have fifty-five or sixty dollars to
start nicely with and have things in good shape."

"Nephew John," said Miss Betsey, solemnly, turning to Mr. Franklin, "I
don't wish to interfere between parent and child, it's not my way; but
if you have no other objections to Jackie's hen-making machine--I forget
its outlandish name--I am willing, in fact I'd be very pleased, to
advance him the money. What do you say to it?"

Jack sprang to his feet, and Cynthia enthusiastically threw her arms
about Aunt Betsey's neck.

"You dear thing!" she whispered. "And you look sweet in your new hair."
Upon which Miss Trinkett smiled complacently.

Mr. Franklin expostulated at first, but he was finally persuaded to give
his consent. So it was finally settled.

"I will lend you seventy-five dol