umerous other tricks to his door, he considered her
an enemy in ambush, liable to fly out at any moment with a stout
broom-stick or hot suds, and so wisely kept at a safe distance.

But roosted on the fence, with a handful of corn, Jonathan's fears were
at rest, and he fed the chickens, drove the old roosters nearly wild
with long and loud crowing, and sometimes made a hasty jump into the
yard to set two ruffled, ambitious roosters fighting.

Now Jonathan teased and bothered the poor fowls so continually that they
began to grow afraid of him, and would not come when he called them,
much to his indignation. But one day he thought of a plan, and went
straightway to work at it.

First he went to his mother's work-basket and got a spool of thread,
then to the meal chest for a handful of corn. Sitting down on the
door-step, he tied long strings of thread to each grain of corn, then
climbed the fence, and commenced what was fun for him, but misery for
the poor chickens.

"Chick, chick," called Jonathan; and he threw his handful of corn to the
ground. "Now I've got ye, ye disobliging things," said he to himself, as
the stout old hens and pompous roosters pushed the young ones aside, and
gobbled up the corn.

Then Jonathan gave a sudden jerk to his strings, that caused the poor
chickens to feel more uncomfortable in their stomachs than they ever had
before, and made the roosters dance, and the poor old hens tumble and
bob around in all directions. Mischievous Jonathan sat and laughed until
he tumbled off the fence, which broke the strings, and set the poor
fowls free.

This mischief Jonathan carried on for a few days, until the wily chicks
would not come to get the corn when they saw him, and he had to hide
behind the fence until the poor things had swallowed their uncomfortable
morsel, and then he would pop up to see the fun.

But Betty had her eyes on Master Jonathan, and one morning, while
waiting on table, spoke her mind as follows:

"Master, I know not what's to be done with that brat Jonathan Winthrop;
now that his father's away, he behaves more unseemly than wont. The
master on trial yonder has made him a witch, and he has bewitched our
chickens."

"Why for, my good Betty?"

"Why for? Why, they scream and fly away from him on first sight; and
then he bewitches them nearer, and they are filled with pain seemingly,
and flutter and fly about as if in great distress."

"Some of his pranks, I doubt not. I'll spe