ate of New York. But though they are farther away from Chicago
than you are, they can travel faster than you can, having the Twins
with you."

"But how shall we ever be able to find him in such a large city as
Chicago?" asked Nannie.

"He has instructed me to tell you to meet him in Lincoln Park, for
should you arrive first, that will be an interesting place to wait as
there are all the wild animals to talk to and plenty of good green
grass in the Park to eat, and cool, clear water to drink as it borders
on Lake Michigan."

"What are you talking about?" asked one of the Twins. "Going on a
journey? We want to go too!"

"We both want to go!" piped up the other Twin. "We haven't been off
this old stupid farm for ages, and I am crazy to go on a journey and
talk to all the little lambs and goats along the road."

"Keep still, children! Don't you see Mr. Black Wings is telling us
what Grandfather wants us to do?"

"Oh, I bet it is something bully if _he_ is planning it," said one
Twin.

"Bet your sweet life it is!" chimed in the other.

"Children, how many times must I tell you not to use such language?"
said their mother. "If you don't behave, we will leave you at home."

"You can't do that. Grandfather told you to bring us and he would be
disappointed if you did not."

"Hush! Don't be impertinent!"

"You have all been to Chicago so will know the way," remarked Black
Wings.

Just then a rooster flew up on the wagon to crow that it was daylight
and time for all the barnyard animals and fowls to be up and licking
their coats or preening their feathers, which is what they do each
morning instead of washing their faces as little boys and girls do.

"Mr. Chanticleer," called Nannie, "won't you crow out an invitation to
all the animals and fowls to come to the spring at the foot of the
barnyard as soon as they are up, to meet Mr. Black Wings? He has just
come with a message from Billy, my husband, that he has landed in
America safe and sound and is on his way here with our old friends
Stubby and Button."

[Illustration]

"With pleasure. Mrs. Whiskers! And I will crow my loudest and longest,
for nothing in this world would give me more happiness than to welcome
our old chum and friend back to the farm."

"Mother," said Mr. Winters, the owner of the farm, "that rooster will
split his throat if he doesn't stop crowing so loud and long. He
doesn't generally keep it up so long. If he continues to crow like
that i