d fence. She--busy
soul!--was superintending the mending of her home-made chicken-coop now
trembling and quivering under the mighty strokes of Daniel David. With
one breath the mother was making suggestions to her young carpenter, and
with the next screaming to Helen and Isabella to be careful or they
would tumble into the pig-pen, when, suddenly, she saw Dorry at the back
gate.

"Massy! Here comes Dorothy Reed, looking like a fresh rose, as she is,
and not a thing in the house to rights. Well, I can't help it--ten
children so, and everything to look after. Ah, Dorothy!" continued Mrs.
Danby, exchanging her silent thoughts for active speech, "walk right in,
dear, and do please excuse everything. Charity's in the house, picking
up and putting away; I'd call her out, but--"

No need to finish the sentence. Dorry, with a cheery "Oh, no, indeed,
thank you!" had already vanished under the morning-glories that
brightened the doorway.

"Bless her heart!" pursued Mrs. Danby, now talking to Daniel David,
"but she's a beauty! Not that my own are humly, either. Charity's no
fright, by no means, and there's your sister Amanda--why, only last
summer Master Donald's teacher drew a picture of her, because she was so
picturesky, which I'll keep to my dying day. There, Dan Dave, you don't
need no more slats on that side; take this broken one out here, that's a
good child; it scrapes the old hen every time she goes under. Look out!
You'll break the whole thing to pieces if you ain't careful. My! How
strong boys are!"

Meantime, Dorry, as we know, had entered. The house _was_ out of order,
but Charity was doing her best. With one hand she was "picking up and
putting away," and with the other stroking the bumped head of baby
Jamie. Though now able to walk alone, the little one had just
experienced one of his frequent tumbles, and was crying and clinging to
Charity's skirts as he trotted beside her. No one else was in the room,
and perhaps this was why the busy sister was softly saying to herself,
as she worked:

[Illustration: "SO PICTURESKY!"]

"Queen Elizabeth was one, William-and-Mary's Mary was another, and Lady
Jane Grey and Queen Victoria--Oh, do hush, Jamie, dear, I've kissed it
twice already--there!"

Suiting the action to the word, she pressed her lips of healing once
more upon Jamie's yellow hair, and lifting her head again, she saw Dorry
in the doorway laughing.

"Oh, Dorothy, how you startled me! I didn't hear you co