sh her Latin translation. It was a particularly stiff piece
of Virgil, and she puzzled over it so long that she utterly forgot all
about the chickens, and it was only the call of an owl waking up on
the ivy-covered ash tree at the bottom of the garden that reminded her
of her henwife's duties.

"Gracious! It's nearly dark!" she exclaimed, flinging down Virgil and
making a rush for the hen-yard. "I hope to goodness those chicks are
all right! What an idiot I am! Winnie will be ready to slay me if
anything's happened to them."

It was growing very dusk indeed, and though none of the doors were yet
shut, the feathered flock had all gone to roost. As Gwen crossed the
hen-yard she suddenly saw something dark and shadowy creep from behind
the shed and dart stealthily in the direction of the coops. It
disappeared inside the very one where the cherished Partridge
Wyandottes were cuddling under their foster-mother's wings. Gwen's
heart almost stood still. She well knew the cunning and daring of
rats, and how they would snatch the chicks or young ducklings from the
wariest and most warlike hen. To leave this in the coop for even a
minute while she went to call help would certainly result in the loss
of one or more of Winnie's favourites.

Very cautiously she peered inside. The hen, who knew her well, clucked
softly, and the chickens popped their little speckly heads out from
the mass of encircling feathers and "peeped" gently. They were not yet
aware of danger. Where was the rat? It appeared to have vanished into
thin air. It certainly could not have left the coop. At the opposite
end from where the hen was sitting there was a billet of wood, and on
looking at this closely she saw a long tail dangling out underneath.
Without doubt her enemy had taken refuge there and was hiding in the
corner.

"These precious chicks have got to be saved somehow or Winnie'll never
forgive me," muttered Gwen, clenching her teeth to brace her nerves.

Then she did a thing from which her whole spirit shrank. She took her
handkerchief in her hand to give her a firmer grip and seized hold of
the tail. She dragged the rat out of the coop and bore it off, hanging
head downwards and whirling round and round in vain effort to escape,
while it squeaked with wrath and indignation. Fortunately it could not
raise its head sufficiently to bite her or she might have suffered a
nasty wound. Gwen rushed towards the back door, shouting loudly for
Nellie, but