"How do you happen to know anything about Miss Betsy's hens?" her mother asked. "Is calling on Miss Betsy your idea of coming straight home from the village?"

"You didn't say to come straight home, truly, you didn't, mother. I thought you wouldn't mind my making a short call on her and the cat."

Mrs. Owen found it as hard to find fault with Peggy as it had been to find fault with Peggy's father.

"We've got a hen-house out in the yard," Peggy went on. "The people who lived here before us must have kept hens, so it must be a good climate for them."

"I have a few things to do besides taking care of hens," said Mrs. Owen firmly.

"I'd take all the care of them."

"I should as soon trust them to Lady Janet's care."

"But Alice could help me. She'd remind me to feed them."

"And, besides, hens cost a great deal," said Mrs. Owen. She had been thinking of the possibility of keeping hens.

"Do chickens cost a lot? Couldn't we begin with little chickens and let them grow into hens?"

"If we want eggs this winter we'd have to buy hens."

"Maybe people will give us a few hens," said Peggy hopefully. "Miss Betsy has a lot, and the Hortons' farmer has millions; and the Thorntons have some, and so has Michael Farrell."

"My dear little girl, people who are so fortunate as to have hens prize them more than if they had gold. You might as well expect me to give away my preserves and canned vegetables."

Peggy was never tired of looking at the rows of jars of preserves and vegetables, and the tumblers of jelly that her mother had put up. The greater part of them had been sent away, and there was enough money in the bank from their sale to buy winter coats and hats for both of the children, besides something toward then coal.

Peggy went into the pantry for another look at the shelves. There was a pint jar of the precious strawberry preserve and four pints of raspberries and a dozen pints of cherries from their own tree, and there were a great many jars of blueberries and blackberries, and there was currant jelly and grape jelly. Peggy liked the rich color of the strawberries and raspberries and cherries next the more somber blueberries and blackberries.

The shelf where the vegetables were was almost more delightful in color.

The green peas and beans were next the red tomatoes, and beyond them were a few jars of pale yellow corn. They had turnips and carrots and beets stored in the cellar, ready for use.

The children felt very important, and as if their mother could not have had the garden without their help. As she believed in profit-sharing, she paid them for part of their work, while some they did just to help the garden along. At the end of the season they had each earned nearly two dollars. Their mother made it quite two dollars and told them they could spend the money exactly as they pleased, provided they did not get anything to eat with it, like candy.

"You can each get a toy if you like--something that won't break too easily; or you can get something to wear, or something growing--like a house plant."

As usual, Alice knew exactly what she wanted most. It was a doll carriage, and she and Peggy went down to the store and chose it.

Peggy did not care for any of the toys. "I want something that's alive,"

she said, "like a canary-bird, or one of Miss Betsy's hens. I think I'll buy a hen--that will be most useful. If she laid an egg every day we could take turns in having a fresh egg."

"That would be great," said Alice.

Miss Betsy Porter was greatly interested in the children's plan. "Only, are you sure your mother will be willing to let you keep hens?" she asked prudently.

"Yes, we have a house for them, and she said we could get anything we liked. She had thought about keeping hens, only they are so expensive."

"I will sell you a Rhode Island Red," said Miss Betsy. "They lay well, and I will throw in a fine young c.o.c.k. My neighbors are complaining because the young spring roosters are beginning to crow, and I was expecting to have to send them to the market. I'll let Michael Farrell take them up to your house this afternoon, if your mother will let you have them. You can stop at his house and send me word by him whether or not your mother wants them."

Peggy and Alice went out into the yard with Miss Betsy to choose a hen and a rooster.

"It is like a family," said Peggy, "having two of them. They won't be lonely. I shall call them Henry c.o.x and Henrietta c.o.x."

"Well, children, what did you buy with your two dollars?" Mrs. Owen asked when they came home that morning.

"I got a carriage for Belle," said Alice.

"And what did you get, Peggy?"

She hesitated--"Something very useful," she said. "Guess, mother. It's something that will grow and something that is alive."

"A rose in a pot," said her mother.

Peggy laughed. "Oh, mother, you are 'way off. It has feathers."

"You haven't bought a canary-bird?" Mrs. Owen said in tones of dismay.

"No, mother, she is much more useful. It is a hen, and her name is Henrietta c.o.x, and Miss Betsy gave me a young c.o.c.k because he crowed so he woke up the neighbors; and we haven't any near neighbors. And his name is Henry c.o.x."

"A hen and a c.o.c.k! Peggy, what will you think of next!"

"You said I could get anything I liked, mother, and I am sure a hen is much more useful than a doll's carriage. I'll let you have one of her eggs every third morning for your breakfast."

"Did you ever stop to think how they were to be fed? Grain is so high now many people have stopped raising hens."

"Miss Betsy says the Rhode Island Reds aren't so particular as some hens. She says you can feed them partly with sour milk and sc.r.a.ps off the table."

"Sour milk!" said Mrs. Owen; "it's all very well for Miss Betsy to talk about sour milk, for her brother keeps a cow, and he sends her all the skim milk she can use. I am surprised she let you have a hen and c.o.c.k without consulting me."

"She did say she would send them up this afternoon by old Michael if you would let me have them," faltered Peggy. "But, oh, mother dear, I do want them so much. It isn't as if I had spent my money on something foolish, like candy."

"No, that is true," said Mrs. Owen. After all, she had thought of keeping hens herself.

"I'll tell you what we'll do, Peggy," she said. "You can sell Henrietta's eggs to me, when she begins to lay, at whatever the market price is, and the money can go toward their food, and if there is any left you can have it to spend. That will be a good lesson in arithmetic for us."

So Peggy and Alice ran over to old Michael's house, where he was always to be found at his dinner-hour, to tell him the glad news.

Mrs. Farrell came to the door. She was a prosperous, comfortable looking person, with a plump, trig figure and smoothly arranged white hair.

Peggy thought of telling her about the geography game, but there was something about her that made her hesitate. She was afraid Mrs. Farrell would think it a crazy game.

"Won't you come in, you little dears?" said Mrs. Farrell.

Alice looked pleased at being called a "little dear," but Peggy was all the more sure that Mrs. Farrell would not care for the geography game.

"I just wanted to see Mr. Farrell a minute," she said.

"He is at dinner. Can't you give me the message?"

"I don't think I could," said Peggy. "It is very important, and it is not easy to remember all of it. We'll not keep him a minute--truly, we won't."