es Leghorn
have to be content with such mechanical mothering? Not at all! Right in the
middle of the brooder sat the old Red Ally, and her huge red wings were
stretched out to cover about twenty-five of the metal-born babies and part
of her own fifteen, and spread in a close, but fluffy, circle around her
were the rest of her adopted family all cosily asleep and happy at heart.
"I left the top of the brooder open while I went for water the second day
after hers and the incubator's had hatched, and when I came back she was
just as you see her now, in possession of the entire orphan-asylum."

"Oh, look, she's putting some out from under her and taking others in. Oh,
Ann!" exclaimed Bess as she dropped on her knees beside the long box.

"Yes; she changes them like that. I've seen her do it," I answered, with my
cheeks as pink with excitement as were those of my sympathetic friend,
Elizabeth Rutherford. "And you ought to see her take them all out for a
walk across the grass. They all peep and follow, and she clucks and
scratches impartially."

"Ann," said Bess, with a great solemnity in the dark eyes that she raised
to mine, "I suppose I ought to marry Owen _this_ June. I want to have
another winter of good times, but I--I'm ashamed to look this hen in the
face."

"Owen is perfectly lovely," I answered her, which was a very safely
noncommittal answer in the circumstances.

"He carries one of the chickens he bought from you in his pocket all the
time, with all necessary food, and it is much larger than any of mine or
his in my conservatory. Owen is the one who goes in to tend to them when
he brings me home from parties and things and--and--"

"Matthew took off all of his and Polly's little Reds yesterday, and I've
never seen him so--so--" I paused for a word to express the tenderness that
was in dear old Matt's face as he put the little tan fluff-balls one at a
time into Polly Corn-tassel's outstretched skirt.

"Matthew is a wonder, Ann, and you've got to come to this dance he is
giving Corn-tassel Saturday--all for love of you because you asked him to
look after her. He is the sweetest thing to her--just like old Mrs. Red
here, spreads his wings and fusses if any man who isn't a lineal descendant
of Sir Galahad comes near her. He's going to be awfully hurt if you don't
come."

"Then I'll tear myself away from my family and come, though I truly can't
see that I wished Polly Corn-tassel upon all of you. You are just a