g to happen?"

"No. Something nice, I hope, dear?"

"Yes. Father says we'll have a large fowl-house put up, there by the
orchard, and we'll keep a whole lot of fowls. Aunt Emma has done so well
with them this year. He says he will be able to help with them, chop up
their food and feed them, and collect the eggs and wash them and date
them."

"Oh, that will be splendid! I know it will be a comfort to him to be
doing something, and it will be good for him too. Why, Bella, child, you
will be having a stall in the market soon."

Bella coloured, and laughed shyly. "That is one of the things I wanted to
manage this year if we could, but perhaps we'll have to wait now.
The fowl-house will cost a good bit, and we must pay for that first."

"Never mind, child. It will soon repay you again, and perhaps by the next
Christmas market you will have your stall."

Bella's face was radiant. "Aunt Maggie, I wanted to ask you about
something else I want to do. Can't I bottle some of my herbs to sell?
I've got ever so much parsley and mint and sage, and it is only wasting."

"Of course you could! Why ever didn't we think of it sooner?" cried Mrs.
Langley, vexed with herself. "It is the wrong time now; you must gather
it before it flowers, but we will take care we don't forget another
season, and in the meantime we must collect some nice bottles and corks."

"A stall in the market," said Aunt Maggie to herself, when Bella had run
home. "It strikes me that before very long they'll be opening a shop of
their own, and right well they deserve to succeed too. It isn't many
children of their age could or would support a whole family, and be so
happy in their work too."

Though the days were short now, and the hours few when they could work out
of doors, the fowl-house was built and tarred and roofed, and fitted with
perches before a couple of weeks were past, for the man they called in to
help them with the job had little else to do at that time of the year, and
there was so little to be done in the garden, the boys were able to help a
great deal; and never in their lives had they seen Aunt Emma so pleased as
she was with the new fowl-house and run. 'My poultry farm,' she called
it, and she was full of plans as to where the chickens were to be kept,
and how they were to be fed, and the different kinds she was going to
keep; but it is only fair to say that her greatest pleasure lay in the
interest her brother took in it all