eme agitation, and a
shrill peeping from beneath her ruffled feathers furnished the
explanation of her disquiet.

Peggy herself was hardly more composed, and her excitement was
contagious. All plans for the remainder of the afternoon were instantly
forgotten till Peggy's chickens should be ushered from their egg-shell
prison-houses into the world of sunshine. Peggy had fortified herself
against this hour by asking advice of Mrs. Cole and Joe, and all the
other experts in the neighborhood, but now she realized the appalling
gulf between theory and practise. The demeanor of the yellow hen
convinced her that everything was going wrong, and she felt pathetically
unequal to doing ever so little toward making it come right.

Yet, in spite of Peggy's forebodings, one chicken after another was
rescued from beneath the wings of the perturbed foster-mother, and
placed in a carefully prepared basket set behind the kitchen stove. The
girls, eager for a peep at the new arrivals, failed to wax enthusiastic
after their curiosity had been satisfied. Amy voiced the general
disappointment when she said regretfully, "I hadn't an idea they looked
like that to start with. I thought they'd be fluffy and cute, like the
chickens on Easter cards." Peggy, who had herself found the appearance
of the wobbly, shrill-voiced mites a distinct shock, said bravely that
they would undoubtedly be prettier when they were older.

After six chickens had been placed in the basket, silence reigned in the
nest. The yellow hen settled down on her remaining eggs, emitting, at
intervals, an agitated cluck. Peggy vibrated between the woodshed and
the covered basket behind the stove, like an erratic pendulum. The other
girls, weary at last of waiting for more chickens, trooped to the
living-room, and Graham, who like many young gentlemen of twenty, could
on occasion conduct himself like a boy half that age, sought to create a
diversion by tickling his sister.

Ruth was agonizingly sensitive to this form of torture. A forefinger
extended with a threatening waggle was sufficient to rob her of every
vestige of self-control, while the play of her brother's fingers over
her ribs reduced her instantly to grovelling submission. To do Graham
justice, he was quite unable to appreciate the fact that this pastime
cost Ruth real suffering. He would have put his hand into the fire
before he would have struck his sister, yet he frequently subjected her
to misery compared to w