e was a basket on the floor by her side. Malleville was
sitting upon the step. She had quite a number of green leaves in her
lap, which she had gathered in the yard. She said that she was going
to put them into a book and press them.

Just then she heard Phonny's voice around a corner, calling to her.

"Malleville! Malleville!" said the voice, calling loudly.

Malleville hastily gathered up her leaves, and called out, "What,
Phonny? I'm coming."

Before she got ready to go, however, Phonny appeared upon the piazza.

"Malleville," said he, "come and see our chickens."

"Well," said Malleville, "I will come."

"And mother, I wish you would come out and see them, too," said
Phonny.

"I have seen them once," said his mother, "only two or three days
ago."

"But, mother, they are a great deal larger now," replied Phonny. "I
wish you _could_ come and see them. You don't know how large they have
grown."

"Very well," said Mrs. Henry, "I will come."

So she laid aside her work, and stepping out into the piazza, she
followed Phonny and Malleville around the corner of the house. Phonny
walked fast, with long strides, Malleville skipped along by his side,
while Mrs. Henry came on after them at her leisure.

They all gathered round the coop, which had been made in a sunny
corner of the yard. It was a very pretty coop indeed. It was formed
by a box, turned bottom upward to form a shelter for the hen when she
chose to retire to it, and a little yard with a paling around it made
by bars, to prevent the chickens from straying away. Phonny said that
there was a good, comfortable nest in under the box, and he was going
to lift up the box and let Mrs. Henry see the nest, but Stuyvesant
recommended to him not to do so, as it would frighten the hen.

There was an opening in the side of the box, which served as a door
for the hen to go in and out at. At the time of Mrs. Henry's visit,
the hen was out in the yard walking about. She appeared to be a little
anxious at seeing so unusual a company of visitors at her lodgings,
and at first thought it probable that they might have come to take
some of her chickens away. But when she found that they stood quietly
by, and did not disturb her, she became quiet again, and began to
scratch upon the ground to find something for the chickens to eat.

Seeing this, Phonny ran off to bring some food for them, and presently
returned with a saucer full of what he called pudding. It consisted
o