Among the Farmyard People

 BY

 Clara Dillingham Pierson

 Author of "Among the Meadow People, " and "Forest People". 

 Illustrated by F. C. GORDON

 [Illustration]

 NEW YORK Copyright by E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY 31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 1899

TO THE CHILDREN

_Dear Little Friends:_

I want to introduce the farmyard people to you, and to have you callupon them and become better acquainted as soon as you can. Some of themare working for us, and we surely should know them. Perhaps, too, someof us are working for them, since that is the way in this delightfulworld of ours, and one of the happiest parts of life is helping andbeing helped. 

It is so in the farmyard, and although there is not much work that thepeople there can do for each other, there are many kind things to besaid, and even the Lame Duckling found that he could make the BlindHorse happy when he tried. It is there as it is everywhere else, and Isometimes think that although the farmyard people do not look like us ortalk like us, they are not so very different after all. If you had seenthe little Chicken who wouldn't eat gravel when his mother was reprovinghim, you could not have helped knowing his thoughts even if you did notunderstand a word of the Chicken language. He was thinking, "I don'tcare! I don't care a bit! So now!" That was long since, for he was aChicken when I was a little girl, and both of us grew up some time ago. I think I have always been more sorry for him because when he waslearning to eat gravel I was learning to eat some things which I did notlike; and so, you see, I knew exactly how he felt. But it was not untilafterwards that I found out how his mother felt. 

That is one of the stories which I have been keeping a long time foryou, and the Chicken was a particular friend of mine. I knew him betterthan I did some of his neighbors; yet they were all pleasantacquaintances, and if I did not see some of these things happen with myown eyes, it is just because I was not in the farmyard at the righttime. There are many other tales I should like to tell you about them, but one mustn't make the book too fat and heavy for your hands to hold, so I will send you these and keep the rest. 

Many stories might be told about our neighbors who live out-of-doors, and they are stories that ought to be told, too, for there are stillboys and girls who do not know that animals think and talk and work, andlove their babies, and help each other when in trouble. I knew one boywho really thought it was not wrong to steal newly built birds'-nests, and I have seen girls--quite large ones, too--who were afraid of Mice!It was only last winter that a Quail came to my front door, during thevery cold weather, and snuggled down into the warmest corner he couldfind. I fed him, and he stayed there for several days, and I know, andyou know, perfectly well that although he did not say it in so manywords, he came to remind me that I had not yet told you a Quail story. And two of my little neighbors brought ten Polliwogs to spend the daywith me, so I promised then and there that the next book should be aboutpond people and have a Polliwog story in it. 

And now, good-bye! Perhaps some of you will write me about your visitsto the farmyard. I hope you will enjoy them very much, but be sure youdon't wear red dresses or caps when you call on the Turkey Gobbler. 

 Your friend, CLARA DILLINGHAM PIERSON. 

 Stanton, Michigan, March 28, 1899. 

 CONTENTS

 PAGE THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL 1

 THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 12

 THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG 20

 THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO 33

 THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE 47

 THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND 64

 THE TWIN LAMBS 82

 THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE 96

 THE LONELY LITTLE PIG 106

 THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF 116

 THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL 136

 THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY 149

 WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY 160

 THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP 172

 THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER 186

 THE BRAGGING PEACOCK 199

 THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN 213

 THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES 232

 ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING 2

 THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL 16

 THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM 40

 HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES 77

 FEEDING THE LAMBS 84

 EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF 110

 "I AM THE WHITE KITTEN" 130

 THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH 156

 COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER 170

 THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER. _Frontispiece_ 194

 THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE, 208

 THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF 243

THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL

"Listen!" said the Nigh Ox, "don't you hear some friends coming?"

The Off Ox raised his head from the grass and stopped to brush away aFly, for you never could hurry either of the brothers. "I don't hear anyfootfalls, " said he. 

"You should listen for wings, not feet, " said the Nigh Ox, "and forvoices, too. "

Even as he spoke there floated down from the clear air overhead a soft"tittle-ittle-ittle-ee, " as though some bird were laughing forhappiness. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the meadow was coveredwith thousands and thousands of green grass blades, each so small andtender, and yet together making a most beautiful carpet for the feet ofthe farmyard people, and offering them sweet and juicy food after theirwinter fare of hay and grain. Truly it was a day to make one laugh aloudfor joy. The alder tassels fluttered and danced in the spring breeze, while the smallest and shyest of the willow pussies crept from theirlittle brown houses on the branches to grow in the sunshine. 

[Illustration: THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING. ]

"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" And this time it waslouder and clearer than before. 

"The Swallows!" cried the Oxen to each other. Then they straightenedtheir strong necks and bellowed to the Horses, who were drawing the plowin the field beyond, "The Swallows are coming!"

As soon as the Horses reached the end of the furrow and could rest aminute, they tossed their heads and whinnied with delight. Then theylooked around at the farmer, and wished that he knew enough of thefarmyard language to understand what they wanted to tell him. They knewhe would be glad to hear of their friends' return, for had they not seenhim pick up a young Swallow one day and put him in a safer place?

"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" and there was a sudden darkening of the skyabove their heads, a whirr of many wings, a chattering and laughing ofsoft voices, and the Swallows had come. Perched on the ridge-pole of thebig barn, they rested and visited and heard all the news. 

The Doves were there, walking up and down the sloping sides of the roofand cooing to each other about the simple things of every-day life. Youknow the Doves stay at home all winter, and so it makes a great changewhen their neighbors, the Swallows, return. They are firm friends inspite of their very different ways of living. There was never a Dovewho would be a Swallow if he could, yet the plump, quiet, gray and whiteDoves dearly love the dashing Swallows, and happy is the Squab who canget a Swallow to tell him stories of the great world. 

"Isn't it good to be home, home, home!" sang one Swallow. "I never setmy claws on another ridge-pole as comfortable as this. "

"I'm going to look at my old nest, " said a young Swallow, as shesuddenly flew down to the eaves. 

"I think I'll go, too, " said another young Swallow, springing away fromhis perch. He was a handsome fellow, with a glistening dark blue headand back, a long forked tail which showed a white stripe on the underside, a rich buff vest, and a deep blue collar, all of the finestfeathers. He loved the young Swallow whom he was following, and hewanted to tell her so. 

"There is the nest where I was hatched, " she said. "Would you think Iwas ever crowded in there with five brothers and sisters? It was acomfortable nest, too, before the winter winds and snow wore it away. Iwonder how it would seem to be a fledgling again?" She snuggled down inthe old nest until he could see only her forked tail and her dainty headover the edge. Her vest was quite hidden, and the only light feathersthat showed were the reddish-buff ones on throat and face; these werenot so bright as his, but still she was beautiful to him. He loved everyfeather on her body. 

"I don't want you to be a fledgling again, " he cried. "I want you tohelp me make a home under the eaves, a lovely little nest of mud andstraw, where you can rest as you are now doing, while I bring food toyou. Will you?"

"Yes, " she cried. "Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!"And she flew far up into the blue sky, while he followed her, twittering and singing. 

"Where are those young people going?" said an older Swallow. "I shouldthink they had flown far enough for to-day without circling around forthe fun of it. "

"Don't you remember the days when you were young?" said the Swallow nextto him. 

"When I was young?" he answered. "My dear, I am young now. I shallalways be young in the springtime. I shall never be old except when I ammoulting. "

Just then a family of Doves came pattering over the roof, swaying theirheads at every step. "We are so glad to see you back, " said the father. "We had a long, cold winter, and we thought often of you. "

"A very cold winter, " cooed his plump little wife. 

"Tell me a story, " said a young Dove, their son. 

"Hush, hush, " said the Father Dove. "This is our son, " he added, "andthis is his sister. We think them quite a pair. Our last brood, youknow. "

"Tell us a story, " said the young Dove again. 

"Hush, dear. You mustn't tease the Swallow, " said his mother. "They areso fond of stories, " she cooed, "and they have heard that your familyare great travellers. "

"But I want him to tell us a story, " said the young Dove. "I think hemight. "

This made the Swallow feel very uncomfortable, for he could see that thechildren had been badly brought up, and he did not want to tell a storyjust then. 

"Perhaps you would like to hear about our journey south, " said he. "Lastfall, when the maples began to show red and yellow leaves among thegreen, we felt like flying away. It was quite warm weather, and theforest birds were still here, but when we feel like flying south wealways begin to get ready. "

"I never feel like flying south, " said the young Dove. "I don't see whyyou should. "

"That is because I am a Swallow and you are a farmyard Dove. We talkedabout it to each other, and one day we were ready to start. We all hadon our new feathers and felt strong and well. We started out together, but the young birds and their mothers could not keep up with the rest, so we went on ahead. "

"Ahead of whom?" said the young Dove, who had been preening his featherswhen he should have been listening. 

"Ahead of the mothers and their fledglings. We flew over farms wherethere were Doves like you; over rivers where the Wild Ducks were feedingby the shore; and over towns where crowds of boys and girls were goinginto large buildings, while on top of these buildings were large bellssinging, 'Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong. '"

"I don't think that was a very pretty song, " said the young Dove. 

"Hush, " said his mother, "you mustn't interrupt the Swallow. "

"And at last we came to a great lake, " said the Swallow. "It was sogreat that when we had flown over it for a little while we could not seeland at all, and our eyes would not tell us which way to go. We justwent on as birds must in such places, flying as we felt we ought, andnot stopping to ask why or to wonder if we were right. Of course weSwallows never stop to eat, for we catch our food as we fly, but we didsometimes stop to rest. Just after we had crossed this great lake wealighted. It was then that a very queer thing happened, and this isreally the story that I started to tell. "

"Oh!" said the young Dove and his sister. "How very exciting. But waitjust a minute while we peep over the edge of the roof and see what thefarmer is doing. " And before anybody could say a word they had patteredaway to look. 

The birds who were there say that the Swallow seemed quite disgusted, and surely nobody could blame him if he did. 

"You must excuse them, " cooed their mother. "They are really hardly morethan Squabs yet, and I can't bear to speak severely to them. I'm surethey didn't mean to be rude. "

"Certainly, certainly, " said the Swallow. "I will excuse them and youmust excuse me. I wish to see a few of my old friends before the sungoes down. Good afternoon!" And he darted away. 

The young Doves came pattering back, swaying their heads as they walked. "Why, where is the Swallow?" they cried. "What made him go away? Rightat the best part of the story, too. We don't see why folks are sodisagreeable. People never are as nice to us as they are to the otheryoung Doves. "

"Hush, " said their mother. "You mustn't talk in that way. Fly off forsomething to eat, and never mind about the rest of the story. "

When they were gone, she said to her husband, "I wonder if they did hurtthe Swallow's feelings? But then, they are so young, hardly more thanSquabs. "

She forgot that even Squabs should be thoughtful of others, and that noDove ever amounts to anything unless he begins in the right way as aSquab. 

THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL

The Sheep are a simple and kind-hearted family, and of all the people onthe farm there are none who are more loved than they. All summer theywander in the fields, nibbling the fresh, sweet grass, and resting atnoon in the shadow of the trees, but when the cold weather comes theyare brought up to the farmyard and make their home in the long lowSheep-shed. 

That is always a happy time. The Horses breathe deeply and toss theirheads for joy, the Cows say to each other, "Glad to have the Sheep comeup, " and even the Oxen shift their cuds and look long over theirshoulders at the woolly newcomers. And this is not because the Sheepcan do anything for their neighbors to make them warm or to feed them. It is only because they are a gentle folk and pleasant in all they say;and you know when people are always kind, it makes others happy just tosee them and have them near. 

Then, when the cold March winds are blowing, the good farmer brings moreyellow straw into the Sheep-shed, and sees that it is warm and snug. Ifthere are any boards broken and letting the wind in, he mends them andshuts out the cold. At this time, too, the Horses and Cattle stop oftenin their eating to listen. Even the Pigs, who do not think much abouttheir neighbors, root in the corners nearest the Sheep-shed and prick uptheir ears. 

Some bleak morning they hear a faint bleating and know that the firstLamb is there. And then from day to day they hear more of the softvoices as the new Lambs come to live with the flock. Such queer littlecreatures as the Lambs are when they first come--so weak and awkward!They can hardly stand alone, and stagger and wobble around the littlerooms or pens where they are with their mothers. You can just imaginehow hard it must be to learn to manage four legs all at once!

There is one thing which they do learn very quickly, and that is, toeat. They are hungry little people, and well they may be, for they havemuch growing to do, and all of the food that is to be made into goodstout bodies and fine long wool has to go into their mouths and downtheir throats to their stomachs. It is very wonderful to think that aCow eats grass and it is turned into hair to keep her warm, a Goose eatsgrass and grows feathers, and a Sheep eats grass and grows wool. Still, it is so, and nobody in the world can tell why. It is just one of thethings that are, and if you should ask "Why?" nobody could tell you thereason. There are many such things which we cannot understand, but thereare many more which we can, so it would be very foolish for us to mindwhen there is no answer to our "Why?"

Yes, Sheep eat grass, and because they have such tiny mouths they haveto take small mouthfuls. The Lambs have different food for awhile, --warm milk from their mothers' bodies. When a mother has a Lambto feed, she eats a great deal, hay, grass, and chopped turnips, andthen part of the food that goes into her stomach is turned into milk andstored in two warm bags for the Lamb to take when he is hungry. And howthe Lambs do like this milk! It tastes so good that they can hardlystand still while they drink it down, and they give funny little jerksand wave their woolly tails in the air. 

[Illustration: THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL. ]

There was one Lamb who had a longer tail than any of the rest, and, sadto say, it made him rather vain. When he first came, he was too busydrinking milk and learning to walk, to think about tails, but as he grewolder and stronger he began to know that he had the longest one. Becausehe was a very young Lamb he was so foolish as to tease the others andcall out, "Baa! your tails are snippy ones!"

Then the others would call back, "Baa! Don't care if they are!"

After a while, his mother, who was a sensible Sheep and had seen much oflife, said to him: "You must not brag about your tail. It is very rudeof you, and very silly too, for you have exactly such a tail as wasgiven to you, and the other Lambs have exactly such tails as were givento them, and when you are older you will know that it did not matter inthe least what kind of tail you wore when you were little. " She mighthave told him something else, but she didn't. 

The Lamb didn't dare to boast of his tail after this, but when he passedthe others, he would look at his mother, and if he thought she wouldn'tsee, he would wiggle it at them. Of course that was just as bad astalking about it, and the other Lambs knew perfectly well what he meant;still, they pretended not to understand. 

One morning, when his mother's back was turned, he was surprised to seethat she had only a short and stumpy tail. He had been thinking so muchof his own that he had not noticed hers. "Mother, " he cried, "why didn'tyou have a long tail too?"

"I did have once, " she answered with a sheepish smile. 

"Did it get broken?" he asked in a faint little voice. He was thinkinghow dreadful it would be if he should break his. 

"Not exactly, " said his mother. "I will tell you all about it. Alllittle Lambs have long tails----"

"Not so long as mine, though, " said he, interrupting. 

"No, not so long as yours, " she replied, "but so long that if they wereleft that way always they would make a great deal of trouble. As thewool grows on them, they would catch burrs and sharp, prickly things, which would pull the wool and sting the skin. The farmer knows this, sowhen the little Lambs are about as old as you are now, he and his menmake their tails shorter. "

"Oh!" cried the Lamb, curling his tail in as far between his legs as hecould, "do you mean that they will shorten my tail, my beautiful longtail?"

"That is just what I mean, " said his mother, "and you should be veryglad of it. When that is done, you will be ready to go out into thefield with me. A lot of trouble we should have if the men did not lookafter such things for us; but that is what men are for, they say, --tolook after us Sheep. "

"But won't they laugh at me when my tail is shorter?" asked her son. 

"They would laugh at you if you wore it long. No Lamb who pretends to beanybody would be seen in the pasture with a dangling tail. Only wildSheep wear them long, poor things!"

Now the little Lamb wished that he had not boasted so much. Now, whenthe others passed him, he did not put on airs. Now he wondered why theycouldn't have short tails in the beginning. He asked his uncle, an oldWether Sheep, why this was and his uncle laughed. "Why, what would youhave done all these days if things happened in that way? What would youhave had to think about? What could you have talked about?" The littleLamb hung his head and asked no more questions. 

"What do you think?" he called to a group of Lambs near by. "I'm goingto have one of the men shorten my tail. It is such a bother unless onedoes have it done, and mine is so very long!"

THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG

"CUT-CUT-CA-DAH-CUT! Cut-cut-cut-ca-dah-cut!" called the Dorking Hen, asshe strutted around the poultry-yard. She held her head very high, andpaused every few minutes to look around in her jerky way and see whetherthe other fowls were listening. Once she even stood on her left footright in the pathway of the Shanghai Cock, and cackled into his veryears. 

Everybody pretended not to hear her. The people in the poultry-yard didnot like the Dorking Hen very well. They said that she put on airs. Perhaps she did. She certainly talked a great deal of the place fromwhich she and the Dorking Cock came. They had come in a small cage froma large poultry farm, and the Dorking Hen never tired of telling aboutthe wonderful, noisy ride that they took in a dark car drawn by a great, black, snorting creature. She said that this creature's feet grew on tohis sides and whirled around as he ran, and that he breathed out of thetop of his head. When the fowls first heard of this, they were muchinterested, but after a while they used to walk away from her, or makebelieve that they saw Grasshoppers whom they wanted to chase. 

When she found that people were not listening to her, she cackled louderthan ever, "Cut-cut-ca-dah-cut! Look at the egg--the egg--the egg--theegg that I have laid. "

"Is there any particular reason why we should look at the egg--theegg--the egg--the egg that you have laid?" asked the Shanghai Cock, whowas the grumpiest fowl in the yard. 

Now, usually if the Dorking Hen had been spoken to in this way, shewould have ruffled up her head feathers and walked away, but this timeshe had news to tell and so she kept her temper. "Reason?" she cackled. "Yes indeed! It is the finest egg that was ever laid in thispoultry-yard. "

"Hear her talk!" said a Bantam Hen. "I think it is in very poor taste tolay such large eggs as most of the Hens do here. Small ones are muchmore genteel. "

"She must forget an egg that I laid a while ago with two yolks, " said aShanghai Hen. "That was the largest egg ever laid here, and I havealways wished that I had hatched it. A pair of twin chickens would havebeen so interesting. "

"Well, " said the Dorking Hen, who could not keep still any longer, "small eggs may be genteel and large ones may be interesting, but mylast one is bee-autiful. "

"Perhaps you'd just as soon tell us about it as to brag withouttelling?" grumbled the Shanghai Cock. "I suppose it is grass color, orsky color, or hay color, or speckled, like a sparrow's egg. "

"No, " answered the Dorking Hen, "it is white, but it is shiny. "

"Shiny!" they exclaimed. "Who ever heard of a shiny egg?"

"Nobody, " she replied, "and that is why it is so wonderful. "

"Don't believe it, " said the Shanghai Cock, as he turned away and beganscratching the ground. 

Now the Dorking Hen did get angry. "Come to see it, if you don't believeme, " she said, as she led the others into the Hen-house. 

She flew up to the row of boxes where the Hens had their nests, andpicked her way along daintily until she reached the farthest one. "Nowlook, " said she. 

One by one the fowls peeped into the box, and sure enough, there itlay, a fine, shiny, white egg. The little Bantam, who was really ajolly, kind-hearted creature, said, "Well, it is a beauty. I should beproud of it myself. "

"It is whiter than I fancy, " said the Shanghai Cock, "but it certainlydoes shine. "

"I shall hatch it, " said the Dorking Hen, very decidedly. "I shall hatchit and have a beautiful Chicken with shining feathers. I shall not hatchall the eggs in the nest, but roll this one away and sit on it. "

"Perhaps, " said one of her friends, "somebody else may have laid itafter all, and not noticed. You know it is not the only one in thenest. "

"Pooh!" said the Dorking Hen. "I guess I know! I am sure it was notthere when I went to the nest and it was there when I left. I must havelaid it. "

The fowls went away, and she tried to roll the shiny one away from theother eggs, but it was slippery and very light and would not stay whereshe put it. Then she got out of patience and rolled all the others outof the nest. Two of them fell to the floor and broke, but she did notcare. "They are nothing but common ones, anyway, " she said. 

When the farmer's wife came to gather the eggs she pecked at her and wasvery cross. Every day she did this, and at last the woman let her alone. Every-day she told the other fowls what a wonderful Chicken she expectedto have. "Of course he will be of my color, " said she, "but his featherswill shine brightly. He will be a great flyer, too. I am sure that iswhat it means when the egg is light. " She came off the nest each dayjust long enough to stroll around and chat with her friends, tellingthem what wonderful things she expected, and never letting them forgetthat it was she who had laid the shiny egg. She pecked airily at thefood, and seemed to think that a Hen who was hatching such a wonderfulChicken should have the best of everything. Each day she told some newbeauty that was to belong to her child, until the Shanghai Cock fairlyflapped his wings with impatience. 

Day after day passed, and the garden beyond the barn showed rows ofsturdy green plants, where before there had been only straight ridges offine brown earth. The Swallows who were building under the eaves of thegreat barn, twittered and chattered of the wild flowers in the forest, and four other Hens came off their nests with fine broods of downyChickens. And still the Dorking Hen sat on her shiny egg and told what awonderful Chicken she expected to hatch. This was not the only egg inthe nest now, but it was the only one of which she spoke. 

At last a downy Chicken peeped out of one of the common eggs, andwriggled and twisted to free himself from the shell. His mother did nothurry him or help him. She knew that he must not slip out of it untilall the blood from the shell-lining had run into his tender little body. If she had pushed the shell off before he had all of this fine redblood, he would not have been a strong Chicken, and she wanted herchildren to be strong. 

The Dorking Cock walked into the Hen-house and stood around on one foot. He came to see if the shiny egg had hatched, but he wouldn't ask. Hethought himself too dignified to show any interest in newly hatchedChickens before a Hen. Still, he saw no harm in standing around on onefoot and letting the Dorking Hen talk to him if she wanted to. When shetold him it was one of the common eggs that had hatched, he was quitedisgusted, and stalked out of doors without a word. 

The truth was that he had been rather bragging to the other Cocks, andonly a few minutes later he spoke with pride of the time when "our"shiny egg should hatch. "For, " he said, "Mrs. Dorking and I have beenquite alone here as far as our own people are concerned. It is notstrange that we should feel a great pride in the wonderful egg and theChicken to be hatched from it. A Dorking is a Dorking after all, myfriends. " And he flapped his wings, stretched his neck, and crowed asloudly as he could. 

"Yes, " said the Black Spanish Cock afterward, "a Dorking certainly is aDorking, although I never could see the sense of making such a fussabout it. They are fat and they have an extra toe on each foot. Whyshould a fowl want extra toes? I have four on each foot, and I canscratch up all the food I want with them. "

"Well, " said the grumpy old Shanghai Cock, "I am sick and tired of thisfuss. Common eggs are good enough for Shanghais and Black Spanish andBantams, and I should think----"

Just at this minute they heard a loud fluttering and squawking in theHen-house and the Dorking Hen crying, "Weasel! Weasel!" The Cocks ran todrive the Weasel away, and the Hens followed to see it done. All wasnoise and hurry, and they saw nothing of the Weasel except the tip ofhis bushy tail as he drew his slender body through an opening in thefence. 

The Dorking Hen was on one of the long perches where the fowls roost atnight, the newly hatched Chicken lay shivering in the nest, and on thefloor were the pieces of the wonderful shiny egg. The Dorking Hen hadknocked it from the nest in her flight. 

The Dorking Cock looked very cross. He was not afraid of a Weasel, andhe did not see why she should be. "Just like a Hen!" he said. 

The Black Spanish Hen turned to him before he could say another word. "Just like a Cock!" she exclaimed. "I never raise Chickens myself. It isnot the custom among the Black Spanish Hens. We lay the eggs andsomebody else hatches them. But if I had been on the nest as long asMrs. Dorking has, do you suppose I'd let any fowl speak to me as youspoke to her? I'd--I'd--" and she was so angry that she couldn't sayanother word, but just strutted up and down and cackled. 

A motherly old Shanghai Hen flew up beside Mrs. Dorking. "We are verysorry for you, " she said. "I know how I should have felt if I had brokenmy two-yolked egg just as it was ready to hatch. "

The Bantam Hen picked her way to the nest. "What a dear little Chicken!"she cried, in her most comforting tone. "He is so plump and so brightfor his age. But, my dear, he is chilly, and I think you should cuddlehim under your wings until his down is dry. "

The Dorking Hen flew down. "He is a dear, " she said, "and yet when hewas hatched I didn't care much for him, because I had thought so longabout the shiny egg. It serves me right to lose that one, because I havebeen so foolish. Still, I do not know how I could stand it if it werenot for my good neighbors. "

While Mrs. Dorking was talking with the Bantam by her nest, the BlackSpanish Hen scratched a hole in the earth under the perches, poked thepieces of the shiny egg into it, and covered them up. "I never raiseChickens myself, " she said, "but if I did----"

The Shanghai Cock walked away with the Dorking Cock. "I'm sorry foryou, " he said, "and I am more sorry for Mrs. Dorking. She is too fine aHen to be spoken to as you spoke to her this morning, and I don't wantto hear any more of your fault-finding. Do you understand?" And heruffled his neck feathers and stuck his face close to that of theDorking Cock. They stared into each other's eyes for a minute; then theDorking Cock, who was not so big and strong as the Shanghai, shook hishead and answered sweetly, "It was rude of me. I won't do it again. "

From that day to this, nobody in the poultry yard has ever spoken of theshiny egg, and the Dorkings are much liked by the other fowls. Yet if ithad not been for her trouble, Mrs. Dorking and her neighbors would neverhave become such good friends. The little Dorkings are fine, fat-breasted Chicks, with the extra toe on each foot of which all thatfamily are so proud. 

THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

"Quack! Quack!" called the Duck who had been sitting on her nest solong. "My first egg is cracked, and I can see the broad yellow bill ofmy eldest child. Ah! Now I can see his downy white head. " The Drakeheard her and quacked the news to every one around, and flapped hiswings, and preened his feathers, for was not this the first Ducklingever hatched on the farm?

The Drake had not been there long himself. It was only a few days beforethe Duck began sitting that she and her five sisters had come with himto this place. It had not taken them long to become acquainted with theother farmyard people, and all had been kind to them. The Geese hadrather put on airs, at first, because they were bigger and had longerlegs, but the Ducks and Drake were too wise to notice this in any way, and before long the Geese were as friendly as possible. They would haveshown the Ducks the way to the water if it had been necessary, but itwas not, for Ducks always know without being told just where to find it. They know, and they do not know why they know. It is one of the thingsthat are. 

Now that the first Duckling had chipped the shell, everybody wanted tosee him, and there was soon a crowd of fowls around the nest watchinghim free himself from it. The Drake stood by, as proud as a Peacock. "Ithink he looks much like his mother, " said he. 

"Yes, yes, " cackled all the Hens. "The same broad yellow bill, the sameshort yellow legs, and the same webbed feet. "

The mother Duck smiled. "He looks more like me now than he will by andby, " she said, "for when his feathers grow and cover the down, he willhave a stiff little one curled up on his back like the Drake's. Andreally, except for the curled feather, his father and I look very muchalike. "

"That is so, " said the Black Spanish Cock. "You do look alike; the samewhite feathers, the same broad breast, the same strong wings, the samepointed tail, the same long neck, the same sweet expression around thebill!" That was just like the Black Spanish Cock. He always saidsomething pleasant about people when he could, and it was much betterthan saying unpleasant things. Indeed, he was the most polite fowl inthe poultry-yard, and the Black Spanish Hen thought his manners quiteperfect. 

Then the Duckling's five aunts pushed their way through the crowd to thenest under the edge of the strawstack. "Have you noticed what finelarge feet he has?" said one of them. "That is like his mother's people. See what a strong web is between the three long toes on each foot! Hewill be a good swimmer. The one toe that points backward is small, to besure, but he does not need that in swimming. That is only to makewaddling easier. "

"Yes, yes, " "A fine web, " and "Very large feet, " cried the fowls aroundthe nest, but most of them didn't care so much about the size of hisfeet as the Ducks did. Large feet are always useful, you know, yetnobody needs them so badly as Geese and Ducks. The Geese were offswimming, and so could not see the Duckling when first he came out ofthe shell. 

"Tap-tap, tap-tap, " sounded inside another shell, and they knew thatthere would soon be a second damp little Duckling beside the first. Thevisitors could not stay to see this one come out, and they went awayfor a time. The eldest Duckling had supposed that this was life, to havepeople around saying, "How bright he is!" "What fine legs!" or "He has abeautiful bill!" And now that they all walked away and his mother waslooking after the Duckling who was just breaking her shell, he didn'tlike it--he didn't like it at all. 

Still, it was much better so. If he had had no brothers and sisters, hewould have been a lonely little fellow; besides, he would have had hisown way nearly all the time, and that is likely to make any Ducklingselfish. Then, too, if all the other fowls had petted him and given himthe best of everything, he would have become vain. Truly, it was a goodthing for him not to be the only child, and he soon learned to think so. 

After there were two Ducklings, a third one came, and a fourth, and afifth, and so on until, when the broken shells were cleared away andthe mother had counted bills, she could call to the Drake and hersisters, "Nine Ducklings hatched, and there were only nine eggs in thenest. "

"Then come to the brook, " said the Drake, "and let the children have abath. I have been swimming a great many times to-day, and they have noteven set foot in water yet. Why, our eldest son was out of his shellbefore the Horses were harnessed this morning, and here it is nearlytime for their supper. "

"I couldn't help it, " said the mother Duck. "I couldn't leave the nestto take him swimming until the rest were ready to go. I am doing thebest I can. "

"I didn't mean to find fault, " said the Drake, "and I suppose youcouldn't get away, but we know that Ducklings should be taught to batheoften, and there is nothing like beginning in time. "

"I might have taken some of them to the brook, " said one of the aunts. The mother straightened her neck and held her head very high, while sheanswered, "You? You are very kind, but what do you know about bringingup Ducklings?"

Now the aunt might have said, "I know just as much as you do, " for itwas the young mother's first brood, yet she kept still. She thought, "Imay hatch Ducklings of my own some day, and then I suppose I shall wantto care for them myself. "

"Wait, " said the Drake, as they reached the brook. "Let us wait and seewhat the children will do. " The words were hardly out of his billwhen--flutter--splash--splash!--there were nine yellow-white Ducklingsfloating on the brook and murmuring happily to each other as though theyhad never done anything else. 

The Dorking Cock stood on the bank. "Who taught them to swim?" said he. 

"Nobody, " answered their mother proudly. "They knew without being told. That is the way a Duck takes to water. " And she gave a dainty lurch andwas among her brood. 

[Illustration: THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM. ]

"Well!" exclaimed the Dorking Cock. "I thought the little Dorkings wereas bright as children could be, but they didn't know as much as that. Imust tell them. " He stalked off, talking under his breath. 

"They know more than that, " said the Drake. "Did you see how they ranahead of us when we stopped to talk? They knew where to find water assoon as they were out of the shell. Still, the Cock might not havebelieved that if I had told him. "

They had a good swim, and then all stood on the bank and driedthemselves. This they did by squeezing the water out of their down withtheir bills. The Drake, the mother Duck, the five aunts, and the nineDucklings all stood as tall and straight as they could, and turned andtwisted their long necks, and flapped their wings, and squeezed theirdown, and murmured to each other. And their father didn't tell thelittle ones how, and their mother didn't tell them how, and their fiveaunts didn't tell them how, but they knew without being told. 

The Ducklings grew fast, and made friends of all the farmyard people. Early every morning they went to the brook. They learned to follow thebrook to the river, and here were wonderful things to be seen. There wasplenty to eat, too, in the soft mud under the water, and it was easyenough to dive to it, or to reach down their long necks while only theirpointed tails and part of their body could be seen above the water. Notthat they ate the mud. They kept only the food that they found in it, and then let the mud slip out between the rough edges of their bills. They swam and ate all day, and slept all night, and were dutifulDucklings who minded their mother, so it was not strange that they wereplump and happy. 

At last there came a morning when the eldest Duckling could not go tothe brook with the others. A Weasel had bitten him in the night, and ifit had not been for his mother and the Drake, would have carried himaway. The rest had to go in swimming, and his lame leg would not let himwaddle as far as the brook, or swim after he got there. 

"I don't know what to do, " he said to his mother. "I can't swim and Ican't waddle far, and I've eaten so much already that I can't eatanything more for a long, long time. "

"You might play with the little Shanghais, " said his mother. 

"They run around too much, " he replied. "I can't keep up with them. "

"Then why not lie near the corn crib and visit with the Mice?"

"Oh, they don't like the things that I like, and it isn't any fun. "

"How would it suit you to watch the Peacock for a while?"

"I'm tired of watching the Peacock. "

"Then, " said the mother, "you must help somebody else. You are oldenough to think of such things now, and you must remember this wisesaying: 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody. '"

"Whom can I help?" said the lame Duckling. "People can all do things forthemselves. "

"There is the Blind Horse, " answered his mother. "He is alone to-day, and I'm sure he would like somebody to visit him. "

"Quack!" said the Duckling. "I will go to see him. " He waddled slowlyaway, stopping now and then to rest, and shaking his little pointed tailfrom side to side as Ducks do. The Blind Horse was grazing in thepasture alone. 

"I've come to see you, sir, " said the Duckling. "Shall I be in yourway?"

The Blind Horse looked much pleased. "I think from your voice that youmust be one of the young Ducks, " said he. "I shall be very glad to haveyou visit me, only you must be careful to keep away from my feet, for Ican't see, and I might step on you. "

"I'll be careful, " said the Duckling. "I can't waddle much anyway thismorning, because my leg hurts me so. "

"Why, I'm sorry you are lame, " said the Horse. "What is the matter?"

"A Weasel bit me in the night, sir. But it doesn't hurt so much as itdid before I came to see you. Perhaps the pasture is a better place forlame legs than the farmyard. " He didn't know that it was because he wastrying to make somebody else happy that he felt so much better, yet thatwas the reason. 

The Blind Horse and the Duckling became very fond of each other and hada fine time. The Horse told stories of his Colthood, and of the thingshe had seen in his travels before he became blind. And the Duckling toldhim what the other farmyard people were doing, and about the soft, fleecy clouds that drifted across the blue sky. When the mother Duckcame to look for him, the little fellow was much surprised. "Didn't yougo to the brook?" he asked. 

"Yes, " said his mother, with a smile. "We have been there all themorning. Don't you see how high the sun is?"

"Why-ee!" said the Duckling. "I didn't think I had been here long atall. We've been having the nicest time. And I'm coming again, am I not?"He asked this question of the Blind Horse. 

"I wish you would come often, " answered the Blind Horse. "You have givenme a very pleasant morning. Good-bye!"

The mother Duck and her son waddled off together. "How is your leg?"said she. 

"I forgot all about it until I began to walk, " answered the Duckling. "Isn't that queer?"

"Not at all, " said his mother. "It was because you were making somebodyelse happy. 'When you don't know what to do, help somebody. '"

THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE

In a sheltered corner of the farmyard, where the hedge kept off the coldwinds and the trees shaded from hot summer sunshine, there were manyhives of Bees. One could not say much for the Drones, but the otherswere the busiest of all the farmyard people, and they had so much to dothat they did not often stop to visit with their neighbors. 

In each hive, or home, there were many thousand Bees, and each had hisown work. First of all, there was the Queen. You might think that beinga Queen meant playing all the time, but that is not so, for to be areally good Queen, even in a Beehive, one must know a great deal andkeep at work all the time. The Queen Bee is the mother of all the BeeBabies, and she spends her days in laying eggs. She is so very preciousand important a person that the first duty of the rest is to take careof her. 

The Drones are the stoutest and finest-looking of all the Bees, but theyare lazy, very, very lazy. There are never many of them in a hive, andlike most lazy people, they spend much of their time in telling theothers how to work. They do not make wax or store honey, and as theWorker Bees do not wish them to eat what has been put away for winter, they do not live very long. 

Most of the Bees are Workers. They are smaller than either the QueenMother or the Drones, and they gather all the honey, make all the wax, build the comb, and feed the babies. They keep the hive clean, and whenthe weather is very warm, some of them fan the air with their wings tocool it. They guard the doorway of the hive, too, and turn away therobbers who sometimes come to steal their honey. 

In these busy homes, nobody can live long just for himself. Everybodyhelps somebody else, and that makes life pleasant. The Queen Motheroften lays as many as two thousand eggs in a day. Most of these areWorker eggs, and are laid in the small cells of the brood comb, which isthe nursery of the hive. A few are Drone eggs and are laid in largecells. She never lays any Queen eggs, for she does not want more Queensgrowing up. It is a law among the Bees that there can be only one grownQueen living in each home. 

The Workers, however, know that something might happen to their oldQueen Mother, so, after she has gone away, they sometimes go into a cellwhere she has laid a Worker egg, and take down the waxen walls betweenit and the ones on either side to make a very large royal cell. Theybite away the wax with their strong jaws and press the rough edges intoshape with their feet. When this egg hatches, they do not feed the baby, or Larva, with tasteless bread made of flower-dust, honey, and water, asthey would if they intended it to grow up a Worker or a Drone. Instead, they make what is called royal jelly, which is quite sour, and tuck thisall around the Larva, who now looks like a little white worm. 

The royal jelly makes her grow fast, and in five days she is so large asto nearly fill the cell. Then she stops eating, spins a cocoon, and liesin it for about two and a half days more. When she comes out of this, she is called a Pupa. Sixteen days after the laying of the egg, theyoung Queen is ready to come out of her cell. It takes twenty-one daysfor a Worker to become fully grown and twenty-five for a Drone. 

In the hive by the cedar tree, the Queen Mother was growing restlessand fussy. She knew that the Workers were raising some young Queens, andshe tried to get to the royal cells. She knew that if she could only dothat, the young Queens would never live to come out. The Workers knewthis, too, and whenever she came near there, they made her go away. 

The Queen Larvæ and Pupæ were of different ages, and one of them was nowready to leave her cell. They could hear her crying to be let out, butthey knew that if she and the Queen Mother should meet now, one of themwould die. So instead of letting her out, they built a thick wall of waxover the door and left only an opening through which they could feedher. When she was hungry she ran her tongue out and they put honey onit. 

She wondered why the Workers did not let her out, when she wanted somuch to be free. She did not yet know that Queen Mothers do not getalong well with young Queens. 

The Workers talked it over by themselves. One of them was verytender-hearted. "It does seem too bad, " said she, "to keep the pooryoung Queen shut up in her cell. I don't see how you can stand it tohear her piping so pitifully all the time. I am sure she must bebeautiful. I never saw a finer tongue than the one she runs out forhoney. "

"Humph!" said a sensible old Worker, who had seen many Queens hatchedand many swarms fly away, "you'd be a good deal more sorry if we did lether out now. It would not do at all. "

The tender-hearted Worker did not answer this, but she talked it overwith the Drones. "I declare, " said she, wiping her eyes with herforefeet, "I can hardly gather a mouthful of honey for thinking of her. "

"Suppose you hang yourself up and make wax then, " said one Drone. "Itis a rather sunshiny day, but you ought to be doing something, and ifyou cannot gather honey you might do that. " This was just like a Drone. He never gathered honey or made wax, yet he could not bear to see aWorker lose any time. 

The Worker did not hang herself up and make wax, however. She never didthat except on cloudy days, and she was one of those Bees who seem tothink that nothing will come out right unless they stop working to seeabout it. There was plenty waiting to be done, but she was too sad andanxious to do it. She might have known that since her friends were onlyminding the law, it was right to keep the new Queen in her cell. 

The Queen Mother was restless and fussy. She could not think of herwork, and half the time she did not know whether she was laying a Droneegg or a Worker egg. In spite of that, she did not make any mistake, orput one into the wrong kind of cell. "I cannot stay here with a youngQueen, " said she. "I will not stay here. I will take my friends with meand fly away. "

Whenever she met a Worker, she struck her feelers on those of herfriend, and then this friend knew exactly how she felt about it. In thisway the news was passed around, and soon many of the Workers were asrestless as their Queen Mother. They were so excited over it at timesthat the air of the hive grew very hot. After a while they would becomequiet and gather honey once more. They whispered often to each other. "Do you know where we are going?" one said. 

"Sh!" was the answer. "The guides are looking for a good place now. "

"I wish the Queen Mother knew where we are going, " said the first. 

"How could she?" replied the second. "You know very well that she hasnot left the hive since she began to lay eggs. Here she comes now. "

"Oh dear!" exclaimed the Queen Mother. "I can never stand this. Icertainly cannot. To think I am not allowed to rule in my own hive! TheWorkers who are guarding the royal cells drive me away whenever I gonear them. I will not stay any longer. "

"Then, " said a Drone, as though he had thought of it for the first time, "why don't you go away?"

"I shall, " said she. "Will you go with me?"

"No, " said the Drone. "I hate moving and furnishing a new house. Besides, somebody must stay here to take care of the Workers and theyoung Queen. "

The Queen Mother walked away. "When we were both young, " she said toherself, "he would have gone anywhere with me. "

And the Drone said to himself, "Now, isn't that just like a QueenMother! She has known all the time that there would be young Queenscoming on, and that she would have to leave, yet here she is, making thebiggest kind of fuss about it. She ought to remember that it is thelaw. "

Indeed she should have remembered that it was the law, for everything isdone by law in the hive, and no one person should find fault. The lawlooks after them all, and will not let any one have more than hisrightful share. 

That same afternoon there was a sudden quiet in their home. The Workerswho had been outside returned and visited with the rest. While they werewaiting, a few who were to be their guides came to the door of the hive, struck their wings together, and gave the signal for starting. Then allwho were going with the Queen Mother hurried out of the door and flewwith her in circles overhead. "Good-bye!" they called. "Raise all theyoung Queens you wish. We shall never come back. We are going far, faraway, and we shall not tell you where. It is a lovely place, a verylovely place. "

"Let them go, " said the Drones who stayed behind. "Now, isn't it time tolet out the young Queen?"

"Not yet, " answered a Worker, who stood near the door. "Not one feelershall she put outside her cell until that swarm is out of sight. "

The tender-hearted Worker came up wiping her eyes. "Oh, that poor QueenMother!" said she. "I am so sorry for her. I positively cannot gatherhoney to-day, I feel so badly about her going. "

"Better keep on working, " said her friend. "It's the best thing in theworld for that sad feeling. Besides, you should try to keep strong. "

"Oh, I will try to eat something from the comb, " was the answer, "but Idon't feel like working. "

"Zzzt!" said the other Worker. "I think if you can eat, you can huntyour food outside, and not take honey we have laid up for winter or foodthat will be needed for the children. "

The Drones chuckled. It was all right for them to be lazy, they thought, but they never could bear to see a Worker waste time. "Ah, " cried one ofthem suddenly, "what is the new swarm doing now?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the Queen Mother crawledinto the hive again. "Such dreadful luck!" said she. "A cloud passedover the sun just as we were alighting on a tree to rest. "

"I wouldn't have come back for that, " said a Drone. 

"No, " said she, in her airiest way, "I dare say you wouldn't, but Iwould. I dare not go to a new home after a cloud has passed over thesun. I think it is a sign of bad luck. I should never expect a singleegg to hatch if I went on. We shall try it again to-morrow. "

All the others came back with her, and the hive was once more crowdedand hot. "Oh dear!" said the tender-hearted Worker, "isn't it too bad tothink they couldn't go?"

The next morning they started again and were quite as excited over it asbefore. The Queen Mother had fussed and fidgeted all the time, althoughshe had laid nine hundred and seventy-three eggs while waiting, and thatin spite of interruptions. "Being busy keeps me from thinking, " saidshe, "and I must do something. " This time the Queen Mother lighted on anapple-tree branch, and the others clung to her until all who had leftthe hive were in a great mass on the branch, --a mass as large as a smallcabbage. They meant to rest a little while and then fly away to the newhome chosen by their guides. 

While they were hanging here, the farmer came under the tree, carryinga long pole with a wire basket fastened to the upper end. He shook theclustered Bees gently into it, and then changed them into an empty hivethat stood beside their old home. 

"Now, " said the Workers who had stayed in the old hive, "we will let outthe new Queen, for the Queen Mother will never return. "

It did not take long to bite away the waxen wall and let her out. Thenthey gathered around and caressed her, and touched their feelers to herand waited upon her, and explained why they could not let her outsooner. She was still a soft gray color, like all young Bees when theyfirst come from the cell, but this soon changed to the black worn by herpeople. 

The Workers flew in and out, and brought news from the hive next door. They could not go there, for the law does not allow a Bee who lives inone home to visit in another, but they met their old friends in the airor when they were sipping honey. They found that the Queen Mother hadquite given up the idea of living elsewhere and was as busy as ever. Thefarmer had put a piece of comb into the new hive so that she could beginhousekeeping at once. 

The new Queen was petted and kept at home until she was strong and usedto moving about. That was not long. Then she said she wanted to see theworld outside. "We will go with you, " said the Drones, who were alwaysglad of an excuse for flying away in pleasant weather. They said therewas so much noise and hurrying around in the hive that they could neverget any real rest there during the daytime. 

So the young Queen flew far away and saw the beautiful world for thefirst time. Such a blue sky! Such green grass! Such fine trees coveredwith sweet-smelling blossoms! She loved it all as soon as she saw it. "Ah, " she cried, "what a wonderful thing it is to live and see all this!I am so glad that I was hatched. But now I must hurry home, for there isso much to be done. "

She was a fine young Queen, and the Bees were all proud of her. They lether do anything she wished as long as she kept away from the royalcells. She soon began to work as the old Queen Mother had done, and wasvery happy in her own way. She would have liked to open the royal cellsand prevent more Queens from hatching, and when they told her it was thelaw which made them keep her away, she still wanted to bite into them. 

"That poor young Queen Mother!" sighed the tender-hearted Worker. "I amso sorry for her when she is kept away from the royal cells. This is asad, sad world!" But this isn't a sad world by any means. It is abeautiful, sunshiny, happy world, and neither Queen Bees nor anybodyelse should think it hard if they cannot do every single thing theywish. The law looks after great and small, and there is no use inpouting because we cannot do one certain thing, when there is any amountof delightful work and play awaiting us. And the young Queen Mother knewthis. 

THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND

The span of Bays were talking together in their stalls, and the otherHorses were listening. That was one trouble with living in the barn, youcould not say anything to your next-door neighbor without somebody elsehearing. The farmer had solid walls between the stalls, with openings sofar back that no Horse could get his head to them without breaking hishalter. This had been done to keep them from biting each other, and asnobody but the Dappled Gray ever thought of doing such a thing, it wasrather hard on the rest. It made it difficult for the mothers to bringup their children properly, for after a Colt was old enough to have astall to himself, his mother had to call out her advice and warnings soloudly that everybody could hear, and you know it is not well to reprovea child before company if it can be helped. Indeed, it was this veryquestion that was troubling the span of Bays now. Each of them had atwo-year-old Colt, and they knew that it was nearly time for the farmerto put these Colts to work. The span of Bays were sisters, so of coursetheir children were cousins, and they were all very fond of each otherand of the Blind Horse, who was the uncle of the Bays and thegreat-uncle of the Bay Colt and the Gray Colt. 

"I am worried about the Bay Colt, " said his mother. "Since he wasbrought into the barn last fall and had a stall away from me, he hasgotten into bad ways. I have told him again and again that he must notnibble the edge of the manger, yet the first thing I heard this morningwas the grating of his teeth on the wood. "

"Well, " said his aunt, "you know he is teething, and that may be thereason. "

"That is no excuse, " said his mother sternly. "He has been teething eversince he was five days old, and he will not cut his last tooth for threeyears yet. I don't call it goodness to keep from cribbing when you don'twant to crib, and the time to stop is now. Besides, if he waits until hehas all his teeth, he won't be able to break himself of the habit whenhe does try. "

"That is so, " said his aunt, "and he will ruin his teeth, too. "

"Pooh!" exclaimed the Bay Colt, who had heard what they were saying. "Ican stop whenever I want to, and they're my own teeth, anyway. It isn'tanybody else's business if I do ruin them. "

"There!" said his mother to his aunt, "you see what I mean. That is justthe way he talks all the time. Now what would you do?"

"Let him alone, " snorted the Dappled Gray. "Let him alone, and he willget some Horse sense after he has been broken. He'll have a hard time ofit, but he'll come out all right. "

The Bay Colt kicked against the side of the stall, he was so vexed. "I'll thank you to let me alone, " said he. "I don't see why everybodytells me what I ought to do. Guess I know a thing or two. "

"I'll tell you why, " said the Dappled Gray, in a voice that sounded asthough he were trying very hard not to lose his temper. "It is becauseyou are young and we like you, and we can save you trouble if you mindwhat we tell you. I had lost the black pits in my front teeth before youwere born, and when a Horse has lived long enough to lose the black pitsfrom his front teeth, he knows a good deal. You don't know a curb-bitfrom a snaffle now, but you will learn many things when you arebroken--a very great many things. "

The Bay Colt tossed his head and did not answer. When he was led out todrink, the Dappled Gray spoke quickly to his friends. "We will let himalone, " said he, "as he wishes. We will not advise him until he asks usto do so. " They were all whinnying "Yes" when the Bay Colt came back. Then it became so still that you could have heard a stem of hay drop. 

For a few days after this, the Bay Colt had a very good time. Nobodygave him any advice, and even when he gnawed at the edge of the manger, his mother did not seem to notice it. After he found that she didn't sayanything, he didn't gnaw, or crib, so much. He was such a foolish andcontrary young fellow that when people told him not to do a thing, healways wanted to do that thing worse than anything else in the world. His cousin, the Gray Colt, was not at all like him. She was a gentlelittle two-year-old whom everybody loved. She was full of fun and wasthe gayest possible companion in the meadow, yet when the older Horsesgave her advice, she always listened and obeyed. 

The Bay Colt was very fond of his cousin, but he did like to tease her, and once in the fall, before they came to stay in the barn, he calledher a "goody-goody" because she wouldn't jump the fence and run awaywith him. He said she wouldn't do such things because she didn't knowwhat fun was. Then she did show that she had a temper, for her browneyes snapped and her soft lips were raised until she showed all herbiting teeth. "I'm not a 'goody-goody, '" she cried, stamping the groundwith her pretty little hoofs, "and I just ache to go. I feel as thoughthere were ropes that I couldn't see, pulling me toward that fenceevery time I think of it, but I won't go! I won't go! My mother saysthat she jumped a fence and ran away when she was a Colt, and that shefelt as mean as could be afterward. "

"I don't care, " said her cousin, "I'm going anyway, and you can stay athome if you want to. Good-bye!" He ran and leaped over the fence, andtrotted down the road with his head well up and his tail in the air. Andthen how the Gray Colt did want to follow! "I won't!" she said again. "Iwon't do it. I'll look the other way and try to forget it, but I wish heknew how hard it is to be good sometimes. "

The next morning the Bay Colt was in the pasture again. The farmer andhis man had found him far away and led him back. "I had a fine time, " hesaid to his cousin, "and I don't feel a bit mean. I'm going againto-day, but don't you tell. " When his mother scolded him as hedeserved, he just switched his tail and thought about something elseuntil she stopped talking. Then he ran away again. 

The next morning when the Gray Colt saw him, he had a queer wooden thingaround his neck, and fastened to this was a pole that stuck out ahead ofhim. It tired his neck and bothered him when he wanted to run. If he hadtried to jump the fence, it would have thrown him down. When the GrayColt came toward him, he pretended not to see her. He might just as wellhave looked squarely at her as soon as she came, because, you know, hehad to look at her sometime, but he had a mean, slinking, afraidfeeling, such as people always have when they have done something wrongand have had time to think about it. Besides, he had changed his mindsince the wooden poke had been put on him, and somehow his running awayseemed very foolish now. He wondered how he could ever have thought itany fun, and he was so disgusted that he couldn't keep his ears still, but moved them restlessly when he remembered his own silliness. 

The Gray Colt was too polite to say anything about his wearing the poke, and she talked about the grass, the sky, the trees, and everything elseshe could think of. Once she was about to speak of the fence, and thenshe remembered and stopped short. The Bay Colt noticed this. "You mightjust as well go on, " said he. "You are very kind, but I know how foolishI have been, and there's no use in keeping still. You were right, and itdoesn't pay to jump fences for a few minutes of what you think will befun. I feel sick all over when I think about it. "

"It's too bad, " whinnied the Gray Colt. "I'm very sorry for you. "

"And what do you think?" said the Bay Colt. "I heard the Dappled Graysay this morning that I was like a Pig! Imagine a Colt being like a Pig!He said that it didn't make any difference on which side of a fence Pigswere, they always wanted to be on the other side, and that I was just asstupid. "

This was all in the fall, before the cold weather had sent them to livein the barn, and while the Bay Colt was wearing the poke he could notwell forget the lesson he had learned about jumping and running away. His mother grew quite proud of him, and the Dappled Gray had been heardto say that he might amount to something yet. That was a great deal forthe Dappled Gray to say, for although he had a very kind heart, he didnot often praise people, and hardly ever said such things abouttwo-year-olds. That made it all the harder for him when the Bay Coltbecame cross over being told to stop cribbing. 

You know there are some Colts who learn obedience easily, and there areothers who have one hard struggle to stop jumping, and another to stopcribbing, and another to stop kicking, and so on, all through theirColthood. The older Horses are sorry for them and try to help them, forthey know that neither Colt nor Horse can really enjoy life until he istrying to do right. To be sure, people sometimes do wrong even then, butif they will take advice and keep on trying they are certain to turn outwell. 

And now, when the Bay Colt seemed to have forgotten the lesson he had inthe fall, and after he had told the other Horses to let him alone, verystrange things began to happen. The farmer took him from his stall andmade him open his mouth. Then a piece of iron was slipped into it, whichlay on top of his tongue and fitted into the place on each side of hisjaw where there were no teeth. Long lines were fastened to this iron oneither side, and when he tossed his head and sidled around, these lineswere gently pulled by the farmer and the iron bit pressed down histongue. 

The farmer was very kind, but the Bay Colt did not want the bit in hismouth, so he acted as ugly as he knew how, and kicked, and snapped withhis jaws open, and tried to run. The farmer did not grow angry or cross, yet whenever the Bay Colt showed his temper, the bit would press downhis tongue and stretch the corners of his mouth until he had to stop. Once in a while the farmer would try to pat him and show him that it wasall right, but the Bay Colt would not have this, and he was a very crossand sweaty two-year-old when he was taken back to his stall. 

He missed the Gray Colt from her usual place, but soon she came in withone of the farmer's men. She had been driven for the first time also. 

"Hallo!" said he. "Have you had a bit in your mouth too? Wasn't itdreadful? I am so angry that my hoofs fairly tingle to hit that farmer. "

"It was hard, " said the Gray Colt, "but the man who drove me was verykind and let me rest often. He patted me, too, and that helped me to bebrave. My mother says we won't mind the bit at all after we are used toit. "

"Well, " said the Bay Colt, "I'm never going to be used to it. I won'tstand it, and that's all there is about it. " He stamped his hoofs andlooked very important. Two-year-olds often look quite as important asten-year-olds, and they feel much more so. The Bay Colt was rather proudof his feet, and thought it much nicer to have solid hoofs than to havethem split, like those of the Cows, the Hogs, and the Sheep. 

[Illustration: HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES. ]

When he said that he would not stand it to be driven, a queer littlesound ran through the stalls. It was like the wind passing over awheatfield, and was caused by the older Horses taking a long breath andwhispering to themselves. The Bay Colt's mother was saying, "Poor child!What hard work he does make of life!"

The next day both Colts were driven again, and the next day, and thenext, and the next. By this time the Gray Colt was quite used to it. Shesaid she rather enjoyed knowing what the man was thinking, and that shecould tell his thoughts by the feeling of the lines, much as she used tounderstand her mother by rubbing noses when she was a tiny Colt. Hercousin had a sore mouth from jerking on the lines, and he could notenjoy eating at all. That made it even harder for him, because he gotvery hungry, and it is not so easy to be sensible when one is hungry. 

When the Gray Colt learned to walk steadily and turn as her driverwished, she was allowed to draw a light log through the furrows of afield. This tired her, but it made her very proud, and she arched herneck and took the daintiest of steps. It was not necessary that the logshould be drawn over the field; still, she did not know this, andthought it was real work, when it was done only to teach her to pull. The man who was driving her patted her neck and held her nose in hishand. When he stopped to eat an apple, he gave her the core, and shethought she had never tasted anything so good. As she went back to herstall, she called to the Horses near, "I have been working. I have drawna log all around a field. "

The Blind Horse spoke softly to her. "You will have a happy life, mydear, because you are a willing worker. "

Although the Bay Colt didn't say anything, he thought a great deal, andabout many things. While he was thinking he began to crib, but thenoise of his biting teeth on the wood startled him, and he shook hishead and whispered to himself, "I will never crib again. " When he atehis supper, his sore mouth hurt him, but he didn't whimper. "You deserveit, " he said to himself. "It wouldn't have been sore if you had beensteady like your cousin. " The Bay Colt was growing sensible very fast. 

The Dappled Gray had noticed how suddenly he stopped cribbing, and sowatched him for a few days. He saw that the Bay Colt was in earnest, that he drew the log up and down without making any fuss, and was soonhitched with his mother to a plow. The Dappled Gray and the Blind Horsewere also plowing that day, and they called across from their field. "Fine day for plowing, " they said. 

"Perfect, " answered the Bay Colt. "Did you notice the last furrow weturned? Can you do any better than that? If I had jumped, it would havebeen crooked instead of straight; and if I had stopped, it would not bedone yet. "

"Good furrow! Wonderful furrow!" answered the Dappled Gray. "Always knewyou'd be a good worker when you got down to it. You are one of us now, one of the working Horses. Glad of it. Good-bye!" And he turned away tostart his plow across the field again. 

"Do you like being grown up?" said the Bay Colt's mother to him. 

"Like it?" he answered with a laugh. "I'm so proud that I don't knowwhat to do. I wouldn't go back to the old life of all play for anythingin the world. And my little cousin made me see my mistakes. Was thereever another Colt as foolish as I?"

"A great many of them, " said his mother. "More than you would guess. They kick and bite and try to run because they cannot always have theirown way; and then, when they have tried the farmer's way, and begin topay for his care of them, they find it very much better than the life ofall play. Colts will be Colts. "

THE TWIN LAMBS

There was a Lamb, a bright, frisky young fellow, who had a twin sister. Their mother loved them both and was as kind to one as to the other, butthe brother wanted to have the best of everything, and sometimes he evenbunted his sister with his hard little forehead. His mother had to speakto him many times about this, for he was one of those trying childrenwho will not mind when first spoken to. 

He did not really mean to be naughty--he was only strong and frisky andthoughtless. Sometimes he was even rude to his mother. She felt very sadwhen this was so, yet she loved him dearly and found many excuses forhim in her own heart. 

There were three other pairs of twins in the flock that year, and astheir mothers were not strong enough to care for two Lambs apiece, thefarmer had taken one twin from each pair to a little pen near the house. Here they stayed, playing happily together, and drinking milk from abottle which the farmer's wife brought to them. They were hungry veryoften, like all young children, and when their stomachs began to feelempty, or even to feel as if they might feel empty, they crowded againstthe side of the pen, pushed their pinkish-white noses through theopenings between the boards, and bleated and bleated and bleated to thefarmer's wife. 

Soon she would come from the kitchen door and in her hand would bringthe big bottle full of milk for them. There was a soft rubber top tothis bottle, through which the Lambs could draw the milk into theirmouths. Of course they all wanted to drink at once, though there wasonly a chance for one, and the others always became impatient while theywere waiting. The farmer's wife was patient, even when the Lambs, intheir hurry to get the milk, took her fingers into their mouths and bitthem instead of the top of the bottle. 

Our twin Lamb wanted to have his sister taken into the pen with theother three, and he spoke about it to his mother. "I know how you canmanage, " said he. "Whenever she comes near you, just walk away from her, and then the farmer will take her up to the pen. "

"You selfish fellow!" answered his mother. "Do you want your dear littletwin sister to leave us?"

He hung his head for a minute, but replied, "She'd have just as good atime. They have all they can eat up there, and they have lots of fun. "

[Illustration: FEEDING THE LAMBS. ]

"If you think it is so pleasant in the pen, " said his mother, "suppose Ibegin to walk away from you, and let the farmer take you away. I thinkyour sister would rather stay with me. "

"Oh, no!" cried her son. "I don't want to leave my own dear woollymother! I want to cuddle up to you every night and have you tell mestories about the stars. "

"Do you think you love me very much?" said she. "You don't know how toreally love yet, for you are selfish, and there is not room in a selfishheart for the best kind of love. "

That made the Lamb feel very badly. "I do love her dearly, " he cried, ashe stood alone. "I believe I love her ever so much more than my sisterdoes. "

That was where the little fellow was mistaken, for although his sisterdid not talk so much about it, she showed her love in many other ways. If she had been taken from her mother for even a few days, they couldnever again have had such sweet and happy days together. Sheep lookmuch alike, and they cannot remember each other's faces very long. If aLamb is taken away from his mother for even a short time, they do notknow each other when they meet afterward. Perhaps this is one reason whythey keep together so much, for it would be sad indeed not to know one'smother or one's child. 

His sister never knew that he had wanted her taken away. She thought heacted queerly sometimes, but she was so loving and unselfish herselfthat she did not dream of his selfishness. Instead of putting the ideaout of his woolly little head, as he could have done by thinking more ofother things, the brother let himself think of it more and more. Thatmade him impatient with even his mother, and he often answered her quitecrossly. Sometimes, when she spoke to him, he did not answer at all, andthat was just as bad. 

His mother would sigh and say to herself, "My child is not a comfort tome after all, yet when I looked for the first time into his dear littleface, I thought that as long as I had him beside me I should always behappy. "

One night, when the weather was fair and warm, the farmer drove all theSheep and Lambs into the Sheep-shed. They had been lying out under thebeautiful blue sky at night, and they did not like this nearly so well. They did not understand it either, so they were frightened andbewildered, and bleated often to each other, "What is this for? What isthis for?"

The Lambs did not mind it so much, for they were not warmly dressed, butthe Sheep, whose wool had been growing for a year and was long andheavy, found it very close and uncomfortable. They did not know that thefarmer had a reason for keeping them dry that night while the heavy dewwas falling outside. The same thing was done every year, but they couldnot remember so long as that, and having a poor memory is always hard. 

"Stay close to me, children, " said the mother of the twins. "I mayforget how you look if you are away long. "

"It seems to me, " said the brother, "that we always have to stay closeto you. I never have a bit of fun!"

When they had cuddled down for the night, the twin Lambs slept soundly. Their mother lay awake for a long, long time in the dark, and she wasnot happy. A few careless words from a selfish little Lamb had made herheart ache. They were not true words either, for during the daytime herchildren ran with their playmates and had fine frolics. Still, we knowthat when people are out of patience they often say things that are notreally so. 

In the morning, men came into the barn, which opened off theSheep-shed. They had on coarse, old clothing, and carried queer-lookingshears in their hands. The Sheep could see them now and then when thedoor was open. Once the farmer stood in the doorway and seemed to becounting them. This made them huddle together more closely than ever. They could see the men carrying clean yellow straw into the barn andspreading it on the floor. On top of this was stretched a great sheet ofclean cloth. 

Then the men began to come into the shed and catch the Sheep and carrythem into the barn. They were frightened and bleated a good deal, butwhen one was caught and carried away, although he might struggle hard tofree himself, he did not open his mouth. The old Wether Sheep was thefirst to be taken, and then the young ones who had been Lambs the yearbefore. For a long time not one of the mothers was chosen. Still, nobodyknew what would happen next, and so, the fewer Sheep there were left, the more closely they huddled together. 

At last, when the young Sheep had all been taken, one of the men caughtthe mother of the twins and carried her away. She turned her face towardher children, but the door swung shut after her, and they were left withthe other Lambs and their mothers. From the barn came the sound ofsnip-snip-snipping and the murmur of men's voices. Once the twinsthought they saw their mother lying on the floor and a man kneelingbeside her, holding her head and forelegs under his arm, yet they werenot sure of this. 

The brother ran to the corner of the shed and put his head against theboards. He suddenly felt very young and helpless. "My dear woollymother!" he said to himself, over and over, and he wondered if he wouldever see her again. He remembered what he had said to her the nightbefore. It seemed to him that he could even now hear his own voicesaying crossly, "Seems to me we always have to stay close to you. Inever have a bit of fun!" He wished he had not said it. He knew she wasa dear mother, and he would have given anything in the world for achance to stay close to her again. 

His sister felt as lonely and frightened as he, but she did not act inthe same way. She stood close to a younger Lamb whose mother had justbeen taken away, and tried to comfort her. One by one the mothers weretaken until only the Lambs remained. They were very hungry now, andbleated pitifully. Still the twin brother stood with his head in thecorner. He had closed his eyes, but now he opened them, and through acrack in the wall of the shed, he saw some very slender andwhite-looking Sheep turned into the meadow. At first they acted dizzy, and staggered instead of walking straight; then they stopped staggeringand began to frisk. "Can it be?" said he. "It surely is!" For, althoughhe had never in his short life seen a newly shorn Sheep, he began tounderstand what had happened. 

He knew that the men had only been clipping the long wool from theSheep, and that they were now ready for warm weather. No wonder theyfrisked when their heavy burdens of wool were carefully taken off. 

Now the farmer opened the door into the barn again, and let the Lambswalk through it to the gate of the meadow. They had never before beeninside this barn, and the twin brother looked quickly around as hescampered across the floor. He saw some great ragged bundles of wool, and a man was just rolling up the last fleece. He wondered if that hadbeen taken from his mother and was the very one against which he hadcuddled when he was cold or frightened. 

When they first reached the pasture, the Lambs could not tell whichwere their mothers. Shearing off their long and dingy fleeces had madesuch a difference in their looks! The twin brother knew his mother byher way of walking and by her voice, but he could see that his sisterdid not know her at all. He saw his mother wandering around as thoughshe did not know where to find her children, and a naughty plan cameinto his head. If he could keep his sister from finding their mother foreven a short time, he knew that the farmer would take her up to the pen. He thought he knew just how to do it, and he started to run to her. Thenhe stopped and remembered how sad and lonely he had been without hismother only a little while before, and he began to pity the Lambs in thepen. 

Now his selfishness and his goodness were fighting hard in him. Onesaid, "Send your sister away, " and the other, "Take her to your mother. "At last he ran as fast as he could toward his sister. "I am good now, "he said to himself, "but it may not last long. I will tell her before Iam naughty again. "

"Oh sister!" cried he. "Come with me to our mother. She doesn't knowwhere to find us. "

He saw a happy look on his sister's sad little face, and he was gladthat he had done the right thing. They skipped away together, kicking uptheir heels as they went, and it seemed to the brother that he had neverbeen so happy in his life. He was soon to be happier, though, for whenthey reached his "new, white mother, " as he called her, and his sistertold her how he had shown her the way, his mother said, "Now you are acomfort to me. You will be a happier Lamb, too, for you know that amother's heart is large enough for all her children, and that the moreone loves, the better he loves. "

"Why, of course, " said the twin sister. "What do you mean?"

But the mother never told her, and the brother never told her, and it ishoped that you will keep the secret. 

THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE

The Mice who lived in the barn and around the granaries had many cousinsliving on the farm who were pleasant people to know. Any one could tellby looking at them that they were related, yet there were differences insize, in the coloring of their fur, in their voices, and most of all intheir ways of living. Some of these cousins would come to visit at thebarn in winter, when there was little to eat in the fields. The MeadowMice never did this. They were friendly with the people who came fromthe farmyard to graze in the meadow, yet when they were asked to returnthe call, they said, "No, thank you. We are an out-of-door family, andwe never enter houses. We do not often go to the farmyard, but we arealways glad to see you here. Come again. "

When the Cows are in the meadow, they watch for these tiny people, andstop short if they hear their voices from the grass near by. Of coursethe Horses are careful, for Horses will never step on any person, largeor small, if they can help it. They are very particular about this. 

All through the meadow you can see, if you look sharply, shallow windingpaths among the grasses, and these paths are worn by the running to andfro of the Meadow Mice. Their homes are in stumps of trees or in thehigher ground near the ditches. In these homes the baby Meadow Mice stayuntil they are large enough to go out into the great world and eatroots, grasses, and seeds with their fathers and mothers. Sometimes theydo go out a little way with their mother before this, and they go in avery funny fashion. Of course, when they are babies, they drink warmmilk from her body as the children of most four-legged people do. Sometimes a young Meadow Mouse does not want to stop drinking his milkwhen it is time for his mother to leave the nest, so he just hangs on toher with his tiny, toothless mouth, and when she goes she drags himalong on the ground beside her. The ground is rather rough for such softlittle babies, and they do not go far in this way, but are glad enoughto snuggle down again with their brothers and sisters. 

There is no danger of their being lonely, even when their mother isaway, for the Meadow Mice have large families, and where there are tenbabies of the same age, or even only six, which is thought a smallfamily among their people, it is not possible for one to feel alone. 

There were two fine Meadow Mice who built their nest in the bank of aditch and were much liked by all their relatives. They had raised manychildren to full-grown Mousehood, and were kind and wise parents. Whentheir children were married and had homes of their own, they still likedto come back to visit. The father and mother were gentle and kindly, asall Mice are, and were almost as handsome as when they first began tognaw. Nobody could say that he ever saw a bit of dust on either of them. 

The brown fur of the upper part of their bodies and the grayish-whitefur underneath always lay sleek and tidy, and from their long whiskersto the tips of their hairless tails, they were as dainty as possible. That was one reason why they were so fine-looking, for you know it makesno difference how beautiful one may be in the first place, if he doesnot try to keep clean he is not pleasant to look at, while many quiteplain people are charming because they look well and happy and clean. 

Now this pair of Mice had eight Mouse babies in their nest. The babieswere no larger than Bumble Bees at first and very pink. This was notbecause their fur was pink, but only because it was so very short thatthrough it and their thin skin one saw the glow of the red blood intheir veins. 

"Did you ever see such beautiful babies?" said their mother proudly toher neighbors. "They are certainly the finest I ever had. " Her friendssmiled, for she always said the same thing whenever she had little ones. Yet they understood, for they had children of their own, and knew thatalthough mothers love all alike, there is always a time when theyoungest seems the most promising. That is before they are old enough tobe naughty. 

The days passed, and the eight baby Meadow Mice ate and slept and pushedeach other around, and talked in their sweet, squeaky little voices. They were less pink every day and more the color of their father andmother. They grew, too, so fast that the nest was hardly large enoughfor them, and the teeth were showing in their tiny pink mouths. Theirmother saw that they would soon be ready to go out into the world, andshe began to teach them the things they needed to know. She took themoutside the nest each pleasant day and gave them lessons in running andgnawing, and showed them how to crouch down on the brown earth and liestill until danger was past. After she had told them many things, shewould ask them short questions to make sure that they remembered. 

"How many great dangers are there?" she said. 

"Five, " answered the little Mice. 

"What are they?"

"Hawks, Owls, Weasels, Cats, and men. "

"Tell me about Hawks. "

"Hawks are big birds who seem to float in the air. They have very sharpeyes, and when they see a Mouse they drop suddenly down and catch him. They fly in the daytime. "

"Tell me about Owls. "

"They are big birds who fly by night without making any noise. They cansee from far away, and they catch Mice. "

"Tell me about Weasels. "

"They are slender little animals, nearly twice as long as a Mouse. Theyhave small heads, four short legs, and sharp claws; have brown fur ontheir backs and white underneath, and sometimes, when the weather isvery cold, they turn white all over. "

"Tell me about Cats. "

"Cats are very much bigger than Weasels, and are of many colors. Theyhave long tails and whiskers, and dreadful great eyes. They walk on fourlegs, but make no noise because they have cushions on their feet. "

"Tell me about men. "

"Men are very big, two-legged people, and when they are fully grown aretaller than Cows. They make noise in walking, and they can neither smellnor see us from afar. "

"And what are you to do when you see these dangers coming?"

"We are to run away as fast as we can from Hawks, Weasels, Owls, andCats. If a man comes near us, we are to lie perfectly still and watchhim, and are not to move unless we are sure that he sees us or is likelyto step on us. Men do not know so much about Mice as the other dangersdo. "

"And what if you are not sure that some creature is a Hawk, an Owl, aWeasel, or a Cat?"

"If we even think it may be, we are to run. "

"When are you to run?"

"At once. "

"Say that again. "

"We are to run at once. "

"Very good. That is all for to-day. "

You can see how well the Meadow Mouse mother brought up her children, and how carefully she taught them about life. If they had been wise andalways minded her, they would have saved themselves much trouble. 

Seven of them were dutiful and obedient, but the largest of the eight, and the finest-looking, liked to decide things for himself, and oftenlaughed at his brothers and sisters for being afraid. Because he was sobig and handsome, and spoke in such a dashing way, they sometimeswondered if he didn't know as much as their mother. 

One sunshiny day, when all the eight children were playing and feedingtogether in the short grass, one of them saw a great black bird in theair. "Oh, look!" she cried. "That may be a Hawk. We'd better run. "

"Pooh!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Who's afraid?"

"Mother said to run, " they squeaked, and seven long bare tails whiskedout of sight under a stump. 

"Ho-ho!" said the biggest little Meadow Mouse. "Before I'd be so scared!I dare you to come back! I dare you to----"

Just then the Hawk swooped down. And that is the end of the story, forafter that, there was no foolish little Meadow Mouse to tell about. 

THE LONELY LITTLE PIG

One day the Brown Hog called to her twelve young Pigs and their tenolder brothers and sisters, "Look! look! What is in that cage?"

The twenty-two stubby snouts that were thrust through the opening of therail-fence were quivering with eagerness and impatience. Their ownerswished to know all that was happening, and the old mother's eyes werenot so sharp as they had once been, so if the Pigs wanted to know thenews, they must stop their rooting to find it out. Bits of the softbrown earth clung to their snouts and trembled as they breathed. 

"It looks like a Pig, " they said, "only it is white. "

"It is a Pig then, " grunted their mother, as she lay in the shade of anoak tree. "There are white Pigs, although I never fancied the color. Itlooks too cold and clean. Brown is more to my taste, brown or black. Your poor father was brown and black, and a finer looking Hog I neversaw. Ugh! Ugh!" And she buried her eyes in the loose earth. The Pigslooked at her and then at each other. They did not often speak of theirfather. Indeed the younger ones did not remember him at all. One of theCows said he had such a bad temper that the farmer sent him away, and itis certain that none of them had seen him since the day he was drivendown the lane. 

While they were thinking of this and feeling rather sad, the wagonturned into their lane and they could plainly see the Pig inside. Shewas white and quite beautiful in her piggish way. Her ears stood upstiffly, her snout was as stubby as though it had been broken off, hereyes were very small, and her tail had the right curl. When she squealedthey could see her sharp teeth, and when she put her feet up on thewooden bars of her rough cage, they noticed the fine hoofs on the twobig toes of each foot and the two little toes high on the back of herlegs, each with its tiny hoof. She was riding in great style, and it isno wonder that the twenty-two Brown Pigs with black spots and black feetopened their eyes very wide. They did not know that the farmer broughther in this way because he was in a hurry, and Pigs will not make hastewhen farmers want them to. The Hogs are a queer family, and the Off Oxspoke truly when he said that the only way to make one hurry ahead is totie a rope to his leg and pull back, they are so sure to be contrary. 

"She's coming here!" the Brown Pigs cried. "Oh, Mother, she's cominghere! We're going to see the men take her out of her cage. "

The old Hog grunted and staggered to her feet to go with them, but shewas fat and slow of motion, so that by the time she was fairly standing, they were far down the field and running helter-skelter by the side ofthe fence. As she stared dully after them she could see the twenty-twocurly tails bobbing along, and she heard the soft patter of eighty-eightsharp little double hoofs on the earth. 

"Ugh!" she grunted. "Ugh! Ugh! I am too late to go. Never mind! Theywill tell me all about it, and I can take a nap. I haven't slept halfthe time to-day, and I need rest. "

Just as the Mother Hog lay down again, the men lifted the White Pig fromthe wagon, cage and all, so she began to squeal, and she squealed andsquealed and squealed and squealed until she was set free in the fieldwith the Brown Pigs. Nobody had touched her and nobody had hurt her, but it was all so strange and new that she thought it would make herfeel better to squeal. When she was out of her cage and in the field, she planted her hoofs firmly in the ground, looked squarely at the BrownPigs, and grunted a pleasant, good-natured grunt. The Brown Pigs plantedtheir hoofs in the ground and grunted and stared. They didn't ask her togo rooting with them, and not one of the ten big Pigs or the twelvelittle Pigs said, "We are glad to see you. "

There is no telling how long they would have stood there if the Horseshad not turned the wagon just then. The minute the wheels began to grateon the side of the box, every Brown Pig whirled around and ran off. 

The poor little White Pig did not know what to make of it. She knew thatshe had not done anything wrong. She wondered if they didn't mean tospeak to her. 

[Illustration: EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF. ]

At first she thought she would run after them and ask to root with them, but then she remembered something her mother had told her when she wasso young that she was pink. It was this: "When you don't know what todo, go to sleep. " So she lay down and took a nap. 

The Brown Pigs did not awaken their mother, and when they stopped in thefence-corner one of them said to their big sister, "What made you run?"

"Oh, nothing, " said she. 

"And why did you run?" the little Pigs asked their big brother. 

"Because, " he answered. 

After a while somebody said, "Let's go back to where the White Pig is. "

"Oh, no, " said somebody else, "don't let's! She can come over here ifshe wants to, and it isn't nearly so nice there. "

You see, they were very rude Pigs and not at all well brought up. Theirmother should have taught them to think of others and be kind, which isreally all there is to politeness. But then, she had very little timeleft from sleeping, and it took her all of that for eating, so herchildren had no manners at all. 

At last the White Pig opened her round eyes and saw all the Brown Pigsat the farther end of the field. "Ugh!" said she to herself, "Ugh! Imust decide what to do before they see that I am awake. " She lay thereand tried to think what her mother, who came of a very fine family, hadtold her before she left. "If you have nobody to play with, " her motherhad said, "don't stop to think about it, and don't act as though youcared. Have a good time by yourself and you will soon have company. Ifyou cannot enjoy yourself, you must not expect others to enjoy you. "

"That is what I will do, " exclaimed the White Pig. "My mother alwaysgives her children good advice when they go out into the world, and sheis right when she says that Pigs of fine family should have finemanners. I will never forget that I am a Yorkshire. I'm glad I didn'tsay anything mean. "

So the White Pig rooted in the sunshine and wallowed in the warm brownearth that she had stirred up with her pink snout. Once in a while shewould run to the fence to watch somebody in the lane, and before sheknew it she was grunting contentedly to herself. "Really, " she said, "Iam almost having a good time. I will keep on making believe that I wouldrather do this than anything else. "

 * * * * *

The big sister of the Brown Pigs looked over to the White Pig and said, "She's having lots of fun all by herself, it seems to me. "

Big brother raised his head. "Let's call her over here, " he answered. 

"Oh, do!" cried the twelve little Pigs, wriggling their tails. "Shelooks so full of fun. "

"Call her yourself, " said the big sister to the big brother. 

"Ugh!" called he. "Ugh! Ugh! Don't you want to come over with us, WhitePig?"

You can imagine how the White Pig felt when she heard this; how hersmall eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up more thanever. She was just about to scamper over and root with them, when sheremembered something else that her mother had told her: "Never run afterother Pigs. Let them run after you. Then they will think more of you. "

She called back, "I'm having too good a time here to leave myrooting-ground. Won't you come over here?"

"Come on, " cried all the little Pigs to each other. "Beat you there!"

They ate and talked and slept together all afternoon, and when the BrownHog called her children home, they and the White Pig were the best offriends. "Just think, " they said to their mother, "the White Pig let usvisit her, and she is just as nice as she can be. "

The White Pig in her corner of the pen heard this and smiled to herself. "My mother was right, " she said; "'Have a good time alone, and everybodywill want to come. '"

THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF

"I think, " said the Blind Horse, "that something is the matter with myears. " He and the Dappled Gray had been doing field-work all themorning, and were now eating a hearty dinner in their stalls. They werethe only people on the first floor of the barn. Even the stray Doves whohad wandered in the open door were out in the sunshine once more. Oncein a while the whirr of wings told that some Swallow darted through thewindow into the loft above and flew to her nest under the roof. Therewas a deep and restful quiet in the sun-warmed air, and yet the BlindHorse had seemed to be listening to something which the other did nothear. 

The Dappled Gray stopped eating at once. "Your ears?" said he. "What iswrong with them? I thought your hearing was very good. "

"It always has been, " was the answer, "and finer than ever since I lostmy sight. You know it is always so with us blind people. We learn tohear better than we could before losing our sight. But ever since wecame in from the field I have had a queer sound in my ears, and I thinkthere is something the matter with them. "

The Dappled Gray stopped eating and stood perfectly still to listen. Hedid not even switch his tail, although at that minute there were threeFlies on his left side and one on his neck. He was trying as hard as hecould to hear the queer sound also, for if he did, it would prove thatthe noise was real and that the Blind Horse's hearing was all right. 

He could not hear a thing. "What is it like?" he asked. 

"Like the loud purring of a Cat, " was the answer, "but everybody knowsthat the Cat is not purring anywhere around here. "

"She might be, " said the Dappled Gray. "Where does the sound seem tobe?"

"Above my head, " said the Blind Horse; "and she certainly would not bepurring up there at this time. She would either be sound asleep, or offhunting, or else out in the sunshine, where she loves to sit. "

The Dappled Gray felt that this was so, and he could not say a word. Hewas very sorry for his friend. He thought how dreadful it would seem tobe both blind and deaf, and he choked on the oats he was swallowing. 

"Now don't worry, " said the Blind Horse; "if I should be deaf, I couldstill feel the soft touch of the breeze on my skin, and could taste mygood food, and rub noses with my friends. I wouldn't have spoken of it, only I hoped that you could hear the noise also, and then I would knowthat it was real. " That was just like him. He was always patient andsweet-tempered. In all the years he had been blind, he had never oncecomplained of it, and many times when the other Horses were about to sayor do some ill-natured thing, they thought of him and stopped. They wereashamed to be impatient when they were so much better off than he. 

The Horses kept on eating their oats and resting from their hard work. In the hay-loft above their heads, the Cat lay and purred and purred andpurred, never dreaming that her doing so made trouble for her friendsdownstairs. 

She had been hunting all the night before, creeping softly through thebarn and hiding behind bags and boxes to watch for careless Mice andyoung Rats. They were night-runners as well as she, and many thingshappened in the barn and farmyard while the larger four-legged peoplewere sound asleep and the fowls were dreaming with their heads tuckedunder their wings. Sometimes there were not so many Mice in the morningas there had been the evening before, and when this was so, the Catwould walk slowly through the barn and look for a comfortableresting-place. When she found it, she would turn around three times, asher great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother used to do totrample a bed in the jungle, and then lie down for a long nap. She saidshe always slept better when her stomach was full, and that was thehabit of all Cats. 

Sometimes she hunted in the fields, and many a morning at sunrise theCows had seen her walking toward the barn on the top of the fences. Shedid not like to wet her feet on the dewy grass when it could be helped;so, as soon as she was through hunting, she jumped on to the nearestfence and went home in that way. 

Yes, last night she had been hunting, yet she was not thinking of itnow. Neither was she asleep. A Rat gnawed at the boards near her, andshe hardly turned her head. A Mouse ran across the floor in plain sight, and she watched him without moving. What did she care about them now?Her first Kittens lay on the hay beside her, and she would not leavethem on this first day of their lives unless she really had to. 

Of course she had seen little Kittens before--Kittens that belonged toother Cats--but she was certain that none of them had looked at all likeher three charming babies. She could not decide which one of them wasthe most beautiful. She was a Tortoise-shell Cat herself, and her furwas spotted with white, black, and yellow. The babies had the samecolors on their soft coats, but not in just the same way as hers. 

At first she thought her largest daughter was the beauty of the family;she was such a clear yellow, with not a hair of any other color on her. "I always did like yellow Cats, " said the young mother, "and they aresaid to be very strong. "

Then she looked at her smaller daughter, who was white with tiny yellowand black spots on neck and head. "Such a clean-looking baby, " sheexclaimed, "and I am sure that when her eyes are open I shall find themblue like my own. "

Just at this moment, the warm, dark little bunch of fur between herforepaws moved, and she looked lovingly down upon him, her only son. "Heis certainly a very remarkable one, " she said. "I never before saw sucha fine mixture of yellow and black, first a hair of one and then a hairof the other, so that, unless one is very close to him it looks like arich brown. And then his feet!" She gave him a loving little poke withone forefoot and turned him onto his back. This made him wave his tinypaws in the air. The thick cushions of skin on each were as black asblack could be, and that is very uncommon. They are usually pink, likethose of his sisters. 

The little fellow lay there, wriggling very feebly, until his mothergave him another poke that turned him over. Then he stretched andcrawled toward her, reaching his head first one way and then another. Hewas so weak that he could not raise his body from the hay, but draggedit along by taking short and uncertain steps with his four shaking legs. It was only a short time since he found that he had legs, and he hadn'tany idea how to use them. He just moved whichever one seemed most in hisway. 

He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going for, but hislittle stomach was empty and he was cold. Something, he didn't knowwhat, made him drag himself toward the big, warm creature near by. Whenhis black nose touched the fur of her body, he stopped pushing ahead andbegan to feel from side to side. He did not know now for what he wasfeeling, yet when he found something his tiny mouth closed around it anda stream of sweet warm milk began to flow down his throat and into hisempty stomach. He did not know that it was milk. He did not knowanything except that it was good, and then he fell asleep. His sistersdid in the same way, and soon the happy mother could look down and seeher three babies in a row beside her, all sound asleep. Their pointedlittle tails lay straight out behind them, and their soft ears were bentforward close to their heads. 

"I wonder, " said she, "if I was ever as small as they are, and if mymother loved me as I love them. " She stretched out one of her forepawsand looked at it. It was so much larger, so very much larger, than thepaws of the Kittens. Such a soft and dainty paw as it was, and soperfectly clean. She stretched it even more, and saw five long, curved, sharp claws slide out of their sheaths or cases. She quickly slid themback into their sheaths, for fear that in some way they might happen totouch and hurt her babies. 

A Swallow flew down from his nest and passed over her head, then out ofthe open window. "Kittens!" said he. "Kittens!" He flew over the fieldsand saw two Horses standing by the fence while the farmer was oiling hismachine. "We have new neighbors in the barn, " said he, "and the Cat ispurring louder than ever. "

"Who are the neighbors?" asked the Dappled Gray. 

"Kittens!" sang the Swallow. "Oh, tittle-ittle-ittle-ee. "

The Blind Horse drew a long breath. "Then I did hear her purr, " said he;"I am so glad. " He never made a fuss about his troubles, for he wasbrave and unselfish, yet the Dappled Gray knew without being told howmuch lighter his heart was since he heard that the Cat had really beenpurring above his head. 

The days passed by, and the Kittens grew finely. They got their eyesopen, first in narrow cracks, and then wider and wider, until they wereround and staring. The White Kitten had blue ones, the others brown. Inthe daytime, they had long, narrow black spots in the middle of theireyes, and as the bright light faded, these black spots spread outsideways until they were quite round. When it was very dark, these spotsglowed like great Fireflies in the night. Then the Mice, who oftenscampered through the loft when the Cat was away, would see three pairsof eyes glowing in the hay, and they would squeak to each other: "See!The Kittens are watching us. "

And the Kittens, who were not yet old enough to go hunting, and who wereafraid of everything that stirred, would crowd up against each other, arch their little backs, raise their pointed tails, stand their fur onend, and say, "Pst! Ha-a-ah!"

Sometimes they did this when there was not a person in sight and whatfrightened them was nothing but a wisp of hay, blown down by the wind. Afterward, when anything moved, they sprang at it, held it down withtheir sharp little claws, and chewed on it with their pointed whiteteeth. When they were tired of this game, they played hide-and-seek, andwhen they were tired of that they chased their tails. It was so nicealways to have playthings with them. Sometimes, too, they chased eachother's tails, and caught them and bit them hard, until the Kitten whoowned the tail cried, "Mieow!" and tumbled the biter over. 

They were allowed to play all through the loft except over the mangers. Their mother was afraid that if they went there they would fall throughthe holes which had been left in the floor. During the winter, thefarmer used to throw hay down through these to the hungry Horses. Whenthe Cat saw her children going toward these places, she called them backand scolded them. Sometimes she struck them lightly on the ears with herforepaw. "I don't like to, " said she, "but they must learn to keep away. It is not safe for them to go there. "

One morning when she was away, they were playing hide-and-seek, and theWhite Kitten was hunting for a good hiding-place. "I'll hide near one ofthese holes, " she said, "and they won't dare come there to look. Then, after they have hunted a long, long time, I'll get another place andlet them find me. " She did hide there, and after a long, long time, whenher brother and sister were in the farther end of the loft, she tried torun over to another dark corner. Instead of that, the hay began to slipand slide under her and she went down, down, down, through a long darkbox, and hit with a hard thud at the bottom. 

She was so scared that she couldn't have told how many toes she had onher forefeet. Of course, she had five on each, like all Kittens, andfour on each hind-foot, but if anybody had asked her then, she wouldhave been quite likely to say "three. "

She was sore, too, and when she felt a warm breath on her and opened hereyes, she saw that some great creature had thrust his nose through ahole in the side of the dark box. "It must be a Horse, " she thought, "and my mother says that they are kind to Cats. I think I'd better tellhim who I am. I don't want him to take me for a Pig, because he may notlike Pigs. " You see, she forgot that Horses had been living in the greatworld and could tell to what family a person belonged the very firsttime they saw him. The only people she had ever seen were Swallows andMice. 

"If--if you please, sir, " she said, "I am the White Kitten, and I justtumbled down from the hay-loft, but I didn't mean to. "

"I am the Blind Horse, " answered a strong and gentle voice outside, "andI hope you are not hurt. "

"Not very much, " answered the Kitten. "I just feel ache-y in my back andscared all over. "

"Come out into the manger, White Kitten, " said the Blind Horse, "andperhaps you won't be so scared. I won't touch you, although I shouldlike to. You know I am blind, and so, unless I can touch people Idon't know how they look. "

[Illustration: I AM THE WHITE KITTEN. ]

The White Kitten crawled out and saw him, and then she wasn't afraid atall. She was so sorry for him that she couldn't be afraid. Sheremembered the time before her eyes opened when she had to feel foreverything she wanted. It was not so hard then, because she did not knowanything different, but now she could not bear to think of not beingable to see all that was around her. "If you will put your nose down inthe other end of the manger, " she said, "I will rub up against it, andyou will know more how I look. "

The Blind Horse did this, and who can tell how happy it made him whenher warm and furry back rubbed up against his nose? "Thank you, " hewhinnied; "you are very good. "

"Would you know I was a Kitten if I hadn't told you?" she said. 

"Indeed I would, " he answered. 

"And you wouldn't have thought me a Pig?" she asked. 

"Never!" said he; "I wouldn't even have believed you if you had told methat you were one. "

The Blind Horse and the White Kitten became firm friends, and when shetried to wash off the dirt that got into her fur she sat in the verymiddle of the manger and told him all about it. 

"My mother always has washed me, " she said, "but my tongue is gettingbig enough to wash with now. It is getting rougher, too, and that is agood thing. My mother says that the reason why all the prickles on Cats'tongues point backward is because then we can lick all the meat off frombones with them. I'm 'most old enough to eat meat now. I can't wash thetop of my head though. You have to wet your paw and scrub it with that. Can you wash the top of your head?"

Then the Blind Horse told her how the men kept him clean; and while hewas telling this the Cat came into his stall, crying and looking for herchild. 

"Oh, mother, " cried the White Kitten, "I tumbled down, but I didn't meanto, and I'm sorry I didn't mind you, and the Blind Horse can't wash thetop of his head, and he knew that I wasn't a Pig. "

The Cat was so glad to find the White Kitten that she didn't scold atall, but jumped into the manger and washed her clean, and then caughtthe loose skin of the Kitten's neck between her teeth and carried herthrough the stalls, across the barn-floor, and up the stairs to theirhome. That made the Kitten much ashamed, for she thought that she wasold enough to go alone. 

For two whole days after this the White Kitten was so lame from her fallthat she could only lie still on the hay, and she could see that hermother did not treat her as before. "I won't ever go near those placesagain, " she said. "I never will. "

"You promised me before that you would stay away, " said her mother, "andyou broke your promise. " She did not punish the White Kitten, but shefelt very sad and she could not help showing it. There was a dreadfulache in her child's little Kitten-heart that was a great deal worse thanthe lameness in her back or in her neck or in her legs. 

At last there came a day when the whole family walked downstairs, andthe Cat showed her three children to the farmyard people and spoke a fewwords about each. "The yellow Kitten, my big daughter, " said she, "promises to be the best hunter: she is a wonderful jumper, and herclaws are already nearly as long as mine. My son, the brown one, has aremarkable voice. And this White Kitten, my little daughter, is the mostobedient of all. She has never disobeyed me since the day she fell intothe manger, and I can trust her perfectly. "

Then the White Kitten knew that she was quite forgiven, and she was thehappiest person on the farm. 

THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL

It was some time after the Dorking Hen had come off the nest with herlittle brood, that the mother of the Shanghai Chickens began to have somuch trouble. 

She had twelve as fine Chickens as you could find anywhere: tall, wide-awake youngsters with long and shapely legs and thick down andfeathers. She was very proud of them, as any Hen mother might well be, and often said to the Shanghai Cock, "Did you ever see so fine a family?Look at those twenty-four legs, all so long and straight, and not afeather on one of them. " His eyes would shine and he would stretch hisneck with pride, but all he ever said to her was, "They will do verywell if they only behave as well as they look. " He did not believe inpraising children to their faces, and he thought their mother spoiledthem. 

Perhaps he was right, for the little Shanghais soon found out that theywere good-looking, and they wanted everybody in the poultry-yard tonotice their legs. It was very foolish, of course, to be proud of suchthings, but when the other fowls said, "We should think you would becold without feathers on your legs, " they answered, "Oh, we areShanghais, and our family never wear feathers there!" And that was true, just as it is true that the Dorkings have extra toes, and that the BlackSpanish fowls have white ears. 

The Shanghai mother was now roaming the fields with her brood, and therewas rich picking in the wheat-stubble. All the fowls were out of theyard now, and would not be shut up until cold weather. Early in themorning they would start out in parties of from six to a dozen, with aCock at the head of each. He chose the way in which they should go; hewatched the sky for Hawks, and if he saw one, gave a warning cry thatmade the Hens hurry to him. The Cocks are the lords of the poultry-yardand say how things shall be there; but when you see them leading the wayin the fields, --ah, then you know why all the fowls obey them. 

The farmyard people still tell of the day when a Hawk swooped down onone of the young Dorkings and would have carried him off if the BlackSpanish Cock had not jumped out, and pecked him and struck at him withhis spurs, and fought, until the Hawk was glad to hurry away. The Cocksare not only brave--they are polite, too, and when they find food theywill not eat it until they have called the Hens to come and share withthem. 

You can imagine what good times the Chickens had in the stubble-fields. They were so old now that their down was all covered with feathers, andsome of them wondered if they couldn't feel their spurs growing. Still, that was all nonsense, as a Bantam told them, because spurs do not startuntil the fowl is a year old. They had long been too large to cuddleunder their mother's feathers at night, and had taken their firstlessons in roosting before they went to the stubble-fields. They hadlearned to break up their own food, too, and that was a great help totheir mother. Fowls, you know, have no teeth, and no matter how big amouthful one takes he has to swallow it whole. The only way they canhelp themselves is to break the pieces apart with their feet or peckthem apart with their bills before eating them. 

The yellow grains of wheat that lay everywhere in the field were finefood, and should have made the little Shanghais as fat as the Grouse whosometimes stole out from the edge of the forest. Eleven of the broodwere quite plump, but one Chicken was still thin and lank. His motherwas very much worried about him and could not think what was the matter. She spoke of it to the Black Spanish Hen one day, but the Black SpanishHen had never raised a brood, and said she really didn't know any moreabout the care of Chickens than if she were a Dove. Then the anxiousmother went to the Shanghai Cock about it. He listened to all she saidand looked very knowing. 

"I don't think there is anything the matter, " said he. "The Chick isgrowing fast, that is all. I remember how it was with me before I got mylong tail-feathers. I was very thin, yet see what a fine-looking fellowI am now. " He was really a sight worth seeing as he towered above theother fowls, flapping his strong wings in the sunshine and crowing. Hisfeathers were beautiful, and the bright red of his comb and wattlesshowed that he was well. "Ah, " thought the Shanghai Hen, "if my Chickencould only become such a fine-looking Cock!" And she didn't worry anymore all day. 

That night she and her brood roosted in the old apple-tree in the cornerof the orchard nearest the poultry-yard. She flew up with the olderfowls and fluttered and lurched and squawked and pushed on first onebranch and then another, while the Chickens were walking up a slantingboard that the farmer had placed against one of the lower branches. Italways takes fowls a long time to settle themselves for the night. Theychange places and push each other, and sometimes one sleepy Hen leansover too far and falls to the ground, and then has to begin all overagain. 

At first the Chickens had feared that they would tumble off as soon asthey were asleep, but they soon learned that their feet and the feet ofall other birds are made in such a way that they hang on tightly evenduring sleep. The weight of the bird's body above hooks the toes aroundthe branch, and there they stay until the bird wishes to unhook them. 

After a long time, all the fowls were asleep with their heads undertheir wings. The Sheep, Pigs, and Cows were dreaming, and even theHorses were quiet in their stalls. There was not a light to be seen inthe big white farmhouse, when the Dorking Cock crowed in his sleep. Thatawakened him and all the other fowls as well. Then the other Cockscrowed because he did and he crowed again because they did, and theycrowed again because he had crowed again, and the Chickens asked if itwere not almost morning, and their mothers told them not to talk but togo to sleep at once and make morning come more quickly. 

All of this took quite a while, and the Shanghai mother could not sleepagain. She could see her brood quite plainly in the moonlight, and oneof them was not plump like the rest. She roosted there and worried abouthim until suddenly (she could never tell how it happened) she seemed toknow just what was the matter. 

She flew down beside him and poked him under his wing. "Wake up, " shesaid. "I want to ask you something. Do you eat gravel?"

"No, " he answered sleepily, "I don't like gravel. "

"Didn't I bring you up to eat it?" she asked sternly. 

"Yes, but I don't like it, and now that I am old enough to roost in atree I don't mean to eat any more. So!"

Just imagine a Chicken talking to his mother in that way! His mother, who had laid the egg from which he was hatched; who had sat upon thenest through all the weary days and nights while he was growing insidehis shell; who had cuddled him under her soft feathers; who had taughthim all he knew, and would have fought any hawk to save him! She hadbegun to love him before he even knew that he was, and had lived for himand his brother and sisters ever since. 

The mother said nothing more to him then. She spent the rest of thenight watching the stars and the moon and the first rosy flush of theeastern sky which told that morning was near. Then she said to hernaughty Chicken, as he began to stir and cheep, "I shall never try tomake you eat gravel if you think you are too big to mind your mother. Ishall just tell you this, that you will never be strong unless you do. Ihave not told you why, because you never asked, and I supposed you woulddo as you ought without knowing the reason. You have no teeth, and youcannot chew the grain you eat before it is swallowed. You have a strongstomach, and if you eat gravel this stomach or gizzard will rub andpress the tiny stones against the grain until it is well broken up andready to make into fat and strength for your body. "

"But it doesn't taste good, " he replied, "and I'd rather eat otherthings. I don't believe it matters, and I won't eat it anyway. "

The Shanghai Hen flew down from the tree and clucked to her Chickens. She would not waste time talking to him. Whenever he came near her thatday, he ate everything but gravel. He had his own way and yet he was nothappy. For some reason, nothing seemed to be any fun. Even lying underthe bushes on the sunshiny side was not comfortable, and when hewallowed in the dust with his brothers and sisters he didn't enjoy that. 

Things went on this way for a good many days, and at last he saw thathis shadow was only a small black spot on the ground, while hisbrothers and sisters had big fat shadows. He heard the Black SpanishCock call him a Bantam, and the Shanghai Cock say that he wouldn't liveuntil his spurs grew. One of the Dorking Chickens was talking to hersister, and he heard her say, "Imagine him at the head of a flock!" Thenshe laughed, a mean, cackling little laugh. 

That night, when the rest were asleep in the apple-tree, he walkedsoftly down the slanting board and ate gravel. The next morning he feltbetter than he had in a long time, so when there was nobody around heate some more. He didn't want anyone else to know that he had found outhis mistake. Every morning he looked at his shadow, and it grew fatterand fatter. Still he was not happy, and he knew it was because he hadnot told his patient old mother. He wanted to tell her, too. One day heheard her telling his brother to eat more gravel, and the brother saidhe didn't like the taste of it. That made him speak at last. 

"Suppose you don't like it, you can eat it. Queer world it would be ifwe didn't have to do unpleasant things. I've just made up my mind thatthe people who won't do hard things, when they ought to, have thehardest times in the end. Wish I'd minded my mother and eaten gravelwhen she told me to, and I'm not going to let you be as foolish as Iwas. "

Just then he heard somebody say of him, "What a fine-looking fellow heis growing to be! I like him ever so much now. "

It was the Dorking Chicken who had laughed at him. He ran after aGrasshopper, and she ran after the same Grasshopper, and they ranagainst each other and the Grasshopper got away, so of course they hadto wander off together to find something to eat, and after that theybecame great friends. 

The Shanghai Hen looked lovingly after him and raised one foot in theair. "Now, " she said, "I am perfectly happy. "

THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY

It would be hard to tell which family is the most important among thefarmyard people. There is no one animal so wise as Collie, the farmer'sdog, and all the rest love him and mind him when he is sent to bringthem up from the pasture or to drive them to the water. Still, he doesnot spend his days in barn or field and only comes with his master orfor a visit now and then. 

You may remember how the Garter Snake and the old Tree Frog were theleaders in the meadow, and how in the forest all looked up to the GroundHog. These people were patient and old, and partly because they were oldand had had many years in which to think about life, they were verywise. In the farmyard the Oxen were the most patient and the oldest, andit was to them that all the animals went when they were in trouble. 

There were also the Horses, fine strong creatures, always helpingsomebody else and working all day during most of the year. They drew thereaper through the tall grain, and where in the morning had been a fieldof waving golden wheat, at sunset were bundles or sheaves of gatheredgrain, and the stubble was ready for the fowls. They were busy people;and sometimes during the winter they liked to remind their neighbors howmuch they had done. 

Then again, there were the Cows, who are the sisters of the Oxen. Theyare large and there are many of them, yet they are not so wise, and thatis easily understood. All that they have to do on the farm is to givemilk for the butter-and cheese-making, and for the farmer's children todrink. No farmer could get along without his Cows, but they do not worklike their brothers. They have so easy a time that they do not learnmuch. You know, when people work, they have to think, and when peoplethink enough useful thoughts it makes them wise. That is one of the manyreasons why it is so foolish to be lazy. 

Truly, it would be hard to say which farmyard family is the mostimportant, but there is no trouble at all in telling which family thinkthemselves the most so. If you ask any Goose, she will tell you that oneof their flock is worth five Horses or a dozen Cows. Nobody else wouldtell you this, and if you should speak of it to the span of Bays, or theDappled Gray, or even the youngest Colt in the stable, they would answeryou only with a hearty Horse laugh. The Cows would smile and reply, "What a Goose she was to say that!"

There has always been a flock of Geese on the farm, and their neighborsare so used to their queer ways that they only smile when the Geese puton airs, and it is a good-natured smile, too. They even feel rathersorry for them when they lose their feathers, although the Nigh Ox oncesaid that if it were not for being plucked once in a while, the Geesewould really be too airy to live with. 

Perhaps the Nigh Ox was right in what he said, for certainly after theyhave worn their feathers all winter, they hold their heads higher thanever, and tell what they think and what they would do, and it is wellthey should be reminded that they work for a living like all theirneighbors. The farmer's wife never plucks the Geese until warm weathercomes. Then she takes all the soft, short feathers that they have wornthrough the winter, and this leaves them looking very ragged indeed. There was a time, years ago, when Geese had to give up their longtail-and wing-feathers to be whittled into pens, but these Geese didn'tknow about that, and there was nobody in the farmyard old enough toremember it and tell them, so they thought they had a pretty hard timein even giving up their breast feathers. 

"Sssss!" the Gander used to say, "if the farmer's boys must havefeather pillows on which to lay their heads, why do they not grow theirown feathers?"

"Humph!" said the Nigh Ox once; "If you must have oats to eat, why don'tyou grow the oats?" But the Gander was already waddling away andpretended not to hear him. 

It is in the winter that the Geese put on the most airs. Then, when theHorses are being harnessed, they say to each other, "Dear me! Wouldn'tit be dreadful to work in that way for a living?" And sometimes, whenthe team is hitched to a post by the farmhouse, they waddle past in asingle line with the Gander at the head, and say to the Horses: "Hearyou have to take a load of wood to town. It's too bad. Hope you won'tget very tired. We are going to the river for a nice cold swim. Good-bye. " Then they march off with their heads held high, and as soonas their backs are turned, the Horses look at each other and laughsoftly. They know that there is nothing in the world better than good, honest, hard work, no matter of what kind it is. 

Every winter the Geese forget about having to be plucked, and everyspring they are surprised to lose their feathers. They are plucked fourtimes before fall comes, and these four times come so near together thateven they can remember from one to another. You would think that thenthey would not be so airy, but instead of saying, "Of course we work forour living--why shouldn't we?" they say, "Why, yes, we do let thefarmer's wife have some of our feathers when she wants them. We supposeyou might call it work to grow feathers for her, still it does not takemuch of our time, and it is quite different from drawing loads andgetting tired as the Horses and Oxen do. Growing feathers is genteel. "

They do not remember anything long, and so, when they have made amistake once, they are likely to make the same mistake over and overagain. Then, too, they cannot tell big things from little things, andthey are not happy unless they can have their own way all the time. Andyou know that nobody can be sure of that. It all comes of their notbeing willing to think hard, and sometimes it makes them a great deal oftrouble, as it did on the day when the Gray Goose would not go throughthe farmyard gate. 

This was soon after the Gander and his wife had hatched their brood ofseven Goslings, and they were taking them at once to the brook. It wasa happy day for all the flock. The Gander and the Mother Goose were gladbecause their children were safely out of the shell, and because theywould no longer have to sit with cramped legs on the nest. Ganders aregood fathers, for they cover the eggs half of the time, while the MotherGoose is resting. The other Geese were not only proud of the Goslings, but they were glad to have the Gander and the Mother Goose free to goaround with them again. They had missed them very much. 

The gate from the farmyard into the meadow stood wide open, and all theGeese except the Gray one followed the Gander through. The Gray Goosetried to go through a small hole in the fence very near the gate. Shesqueezed her head into it and stretched her neck on the meadow side ofthe fence, but she could not get any farther, although she pushed untilshe was dizzy. 

[Illustration: THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH. ]

"Wait for me, " she cried. "Wait for me-ee!"

"Hurry, then, " said the Gander. 

"I am hurrying, " she cried, and she pushed with all her strength, butsince the hole in the fence was so small, she did not get any fartherthan before. 

"Go through the gateway, " said the Nigh Ox, who was grazing near by. 

"Sssss!" said the Gray Goose stiffly. "I would rather go through here. Ihave chosen to go this way. "

"Oh!" said the Nigh Ox, "excuse me! Do go through there by all means!"

"We are going on, " called the Gander; "we would wait, but the Goslingsare in a hurry to take their first bath. Come as soon as you can. "

The Gray Goose tried harder than ever to go the way that she had chosen, but it only made her so out of breath that she had to lie down and rest. Once she thought she heard somebody laugh, yet when she looked at theNigh Ox, who was the only person around, he was lying with closed eyesand solemnly chewing his cud, so she decided that she must have beenmistaken. 

Down by the brook the rest of the flock were cackling merrily, and shecould see the seven Goslings swimming with the Geese and the Gander. "Oh, " she cried, "how I wish I were with them! I don't see what is thematter with this hole in the fence. The farmer ought to make it bigger. "

She pushed and scolded and fussed until her neck was sore and she wastoo tired to swim if she had a chance, so she sat down to rest. She didremember what the Nigh Ox had said; still, if she couldn't go as she hadplanned, she wouldn't go at all. She walked into the barn to find a cooland shady place, lowering her head as she stepped over the threshold ofthe high front door. 

"What did you do that for?" twittered a Swallow. 

"Because I don't want to hit my head on the top of the doorway;" shereplied. "I always do so. All of our flock do so. "

"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee, " laughed the Swallow, as she darted away andalighted on the fence by the Nigh Ox. "Why isn't the Gray Goose inswimming with the rest?" asked she. 

"Because she can't push her fat body through that hole in the fence, "said the Nigh Ox, switching his tail toward it as he spoke. 

"Why doesn't she go through the gateway, then?" asked the Swallow. 

"Because she says she would rather go the other way, and that if shecan't go that way, she won't go at all. "

"And she is missing all that fun?" said the Swallow. 

"All of it, " answered the Nigh Ox, "but then, you know, she is such aGoose!"

WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY

It was during the hottest summer weather that the wind-storm came. Thefarmyard people always spoke of it as "the" wind-storm, because not eventhe Blind Horse, who had lived on the farm longer than any of hisneighbors, could remember anything like it. "I recall one time, " hesaid, "when a sweet-apple tree was blown down in the fall. The Hogsfound it and ate all the fruit before the farmer knew that it was down. You should have heard them grunt over it. They were afraid the farmerwould drive them away before they had eaten it all. Eh, well! They ateall they wanted, but one of the Pigs told me afterward that it made themsick, and that he never wanted to see another sweet apple as long as helived. That was a hard storm, but not like this, not like this. "

It had come in the night when the farmyard people were asleep, and therewas much scampering to shelter. The fowls, who were roosting in the oldapple-tree, did not have time to oil their feathers and make themwater-proof. They just flew off their perches as fast as they could andran for the open door of the Hen-house. When they were once inside, theyruffled up their feathers and shook themselves to get rid of therain-drops. Fowls do not like wet weather, and it vexes them very muchto be in the rain. Their neighbors know this so well that it has becometheir custom to say of an angry person that he is "as mad as a wet Hen. "

The Cows were in their part of the barn with their necks between thestanchions, so there was nothing for them to do but to keep still andthink of those who were out of doors. The Horses were in theircomfortable stalls. They had been working hard all day and the farmerhad gotten a good supper of oats ready for them in their mangers, sothat they could eat quickly and go to sleep, instead of staying awakeand walking around to get their own suppers in the pasture. 

Out in the meadow the Sheep huddled close together under a low-branchingtree, and stood still until the storm passed. They had been so warm thatthe cool rain made them comfortable, but the wind pushed them and swayedthe branches of the trees. The loud thunder made the Lambs jump. Theyliked the lightning and made a game out of it, each one telling what hehad seen by the last flash. The clouds, too, were beautiful, and flewacross the sky like great dark birds with downy breasts, dropping nowand then shining worms from their beaks. 

At last the air became cool and clear, and the clouds flew far awaytoward the east. Next, the stars peeped out, first one, then two, thensix, then twenty, and then so many that you could not have countedthem, --more than the leaves on a maple-tree, more than the grass-bladesof the meadow. The Sheep ran around a little to shake off the rain-dropsand warm themselves, then they huddled down again to sleep. 

When the sun arose in the eastern sky, his warm beams fell upon theSheep and awakened them. "How cool and beautiful a day, " they said. "What a morning for a run!"

"I can beat you to the tall grass!" called one little Lamb to the rest, and they all scampered around the field, throwing up their heels forjoy. They had been away from their mothers for awhile, and had learnedto eat grass instead of milk. They were quite proud of the way in whichthey broke it off, with quick upward jerks of their heads, and theirteeth were growing finely. They did not expect any upper front teeth, for in place of them the Sheep have only a hard pad of flesh. 

Soon they came running back to the flock. "There is a Dog over there, "they cried, "a strange Dog. He doesn't look like Collie. He is comingthis way, and we are afraid. "

Their uncle, the Bell-Wether, looked over to where the strange Dog was, then turned quickly and began to run. The bell around his neck clinkedat every step. When the other Sheep heard the bell they raised theirheads and ran after him, and the Lambs ran after them. The strange Dogdid not follow or even bark at them, yet on they went, shaking theshining rain-drops from the grass as they trod upon it. Not one of themwas thinking for himself what he really ought to do. The Bell-Wetherthought, "I feel like running away from the Dog, and so I will run. "

The other Sheep said to themselves, "The Bell-Wether is running and sowe will run. "

And the Lambs said, "If they are all running we will run. "

Along the fence they went, the bell clinking, their hoofs pattering, andnot one of them thinking for himself, until they reached a place wherethe fence was blown over. It was not blown 'way down, but leaned so thatit could be jumped. If a single one of the flock, even the youngestLamb, had said, "Don't jump!" they would have stayed in the pasture; butnobody said it. The Bell-Wether felt like jumping over, so he jumped. Then the Sheep did as the Bell-Wether had done, and the Lambs did as theSheep had done. 

Now they were in the road and the Bell-Wether turned away from thefarmhouse and ran on, with the Sheep and the Lambs following. Even now, if anybody had said, "Stop!" they would have stopped, for they knew thatthey were doing wrong; but nobody said it. 

After a while a heavy wagon came rumbling down the road behind them, andthe Bell-Wether jumped over a ditch and ran into a hilly field withwoodland beyond. Because he went the Sheep did, and because the Sheepwent the Lambs did, and nobody said "Stop!" You see, by this time theywere very badly frightened, and no wonder. When they saw the strange Dogthey were a little scared, for they thought he might chase them. If theyhad made themselves stay there and act brave they would soon have feltbrave. Even if the Dog had been a cruel one, they could have kept himfrom hurting them, for Sheep have been given very strong, hard foreheadswith which to strike, and the Bell-Wether had also long, curled hornswith three ridges on the side of each. But it is with Sheep as it iswith other people, --if they let themselves be frightened they grow moreand more fearful, even when there is no real danger and now all of theirtrouble came from their not stopping to think what they ought to do. 

They hurried up to the highest ground in the field, and when they werethere and could go no farther, they stopped and looked at each other. One Lamb said to his mother, "Why did we come here? It isn't nearly sonice as our own meadow. "

"Why, I came because the Bell-Wether did, " she answered. Then she turnedto the Bell-Wether and said, "Why did you bring us here?"

"I didn't bring you here, " he replied. "I felt like coming, and I came. I didn't make you follow. "

"N-no, " answered the Sheep; "but you might have known that if you camethe Sheep would come. "

"Well, " said the Bell-Wether, "you might have known that if you Sheepcame the Lambs would, so you'd better not say anything. "

"Baa!" cried the Lambs. "We are hot and thirsty and there isn't anywater here to drink. We want to go back. "

Everybody was out of patience with somebody else, and nobody wascomfortable. They did not dare try to go home again, for fear they wouldhave more trouble, so they huddled together on the top of the hill andwere very miserable and unhappy. They hadn't any good reason for coming, and they could not even have told why they ran to the hilltop instead ofstaying in the pleasant hollow below. 

There was a reason for their running up, however, althoughthey didn't know it. It was because theirgreat-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather and-grandmother werewild Sheep in the mountains, and when frightened ran up among the rockswhere there was nobody to hurt them. They got into the habit of runningup-hill when scared, and their children did the same, and theirchildren's children did the same, and now even the farmyard Sheep do so, although they long ago forgot the reason why. 

"Bow-wow-wow!" rang out on the still morning air. 

"There's Collie!" cried the Lambs joyfully. "He's coming to take ushome. Let's bleat to help him find us more quickly. " All the Lambs said, "Baa! Baaa!" in their high, soft voices, and their mothers said "Baa!Baaa!" more loudly; and the Bell-Wether added his "Baa! Baaa!" which wasso deep and strong that it sounded like a little, very little, clap ofthunder. 

Collie came frisking along with his tail waving and his eyes gleaming. He started the flock home, and scolded them and made fun of them all theway, but they were now so happy that they didn't care what he said. Whenthey were safely in the home meadow again and the farmer had mended thefence, Collie left them. As he turned to go, he called back one lastpiece of advice. 

"I'm a Shepherd Dog, " he said, "and it's my work to take care of Sheepwhen they can't take care of themselves, but I'd just like to be aBell-Wether for a little while. You wouldn't catch me doing everyfoolish thing I felt like doing and getting all the flock into troubleby following me! Nobody can do anything without somebody else doing ittoo, and I wouldn't lead people into trouble and then say I didn'tthink. Bow-wow-wow-wow!"

[Illustration: COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER. ]

The Bell-Wether grumbled to himself, "Well, the rest needn't tag alongunless they want to. Pity if I can't jump a fence without everybodyfollowing. " But down in his heart he felt mean, for he knew that one wholeads should do right things. 

THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP

The Mice were having a great frolic in the corn-crib. The farmer's manhad carelessly left a board leaning up against it in such a way thatthey could walk right up and through one of the big cracks in the side. It was the first time that some of them had ever been here. When thefarmer built the crib, he had put a tin pan, open side down, on top ofeach of the wooden posts, and had then nailed the floor beams of thecrib through these pans. That had kept the hungry Mice from getting intothe corn. 

This was a great day for them, and their gnawing-teeth would certainlybe worn down enough without giving them any extra wear. That, you know, is one thing about which all Rats and Mice have to be very careful, fortheir front teeth are growing all the time, and they have to gnaw hardthings every day to keep them from becoming too long. 

There was only one thing that ever really troubled these Mice, and thatwas the Cat. They did not feel afraid of Hawks and Owls because theylived indoors. Weasels did not often come up to the barn, and men madeso much noise when they were around that any wide-awake Mouse couldeasily keep out of their way. With the Cat it was different. She wasalways prowling around in the night-time, just when they had theirfinest parties; and many a young Mouse had been scared away from amidnight supper by seeing her eyes glowing like balls of fire in thedarkness. By daylight it was not so bad, for they could see her coming, and besides, she slept much of the time then. 

They were talking about her when in the corn-crib. "Have any of you seenthe Cat to-day?" asked the Oldest Mouse. 

Nobody answered. Then one young fellow, who was always worrying, said:"Supposing she should come out of the barn now! Supposing she shouldcome right toward this corn-crib! Supposing she should stand right underthe floor! Supposing she should catch us as we jumped down!Supposing----"

But here the other young Mice all squeaked to him to stop, and one ofthem declared that it made her fur stand on end to think of it. TheOldest Mouse spoke quite sharply. "Supposing, " said he to the firstyoung Mouse, "you should eat more and talk less. There are enoughpleasant things to speak about without scaring all your friends in thisway. "

The young Mouse who said that her fur stood on end couldn't eat anythingmore, she was so frightened. "What could we do, " she said, "if the Catshould come?"

"Stay right where we are, " answered her mother. "She couldn't reach uswith the door closed. Now go on with your eating and don't be foolish. "

A Rat ran up the board. "Good-morning, " said he. "Have you heard thenews?"

"No, no!" cried the Mice, hurrying to that side of the corn-crib, andpeeping through the crack. 

"The Yellow Kitten has been hunting with her mother, and they say thather brother is going to-night. "

"Well, " said a mother Mouse, "I knew we would have to expect it, but Idid hope they would wait a while. Now, children, " she added, "do becareful! I know that when you are looking for food you have to go intodangerous places, but don't stop there to talk or to clean your fur. Find safe corners for that, or I shall worry about you all the time. "

"We will, " squeaked all the little Mice together. "We will be very, verycareful. "

"Thank you for the news, " said the Oldest Mouse to the Rat. "We will tryto send you word of new dangers when we hear of them. "

The Rat, who was a fine young fellow, ran down the board and away. Theycould not ask him in to lunch, because he was too large and stout tosqueeze through the cracks, but he understood how it was, and knew thathe could find food elsewhere. Now he ran to the Pig-pen to snatch ashare of the breakfast which the farmer had just left there. He oftendid this as soon as the farmer went away, and the Pigs never troubledhim. Perhaps that was because they knew that if they drove him away whenhe came alone, he would bring all his sisters and his cousins and hisaunts, and his brothers and his uncles too, the next time, and wouldeat every bit of food they had. 

After he had taken a hearty breakfast, he ran under the edge of the barnto clean himself. He was always very particular about this. His motherhad taught him when very small that he must keep his fur well brushedand his face washed, and he did it just as a Cat would, by wetting hispaws and scrubbing his face and the top of his head. He brushed his furcoat with his paws also. 

While he was here, one of his cousins came from the barn above. She randown the inside of the wall, head foremost, and her hind feet wereturned around until they pointed backward. That let her hold on with herlong, sharp claws, quite as a Squirrel does, and kept her from tumbling. She was much out of breath when she reached the ground, but it was notfrom running. 

"What do you think that farmer has done now?" she cried. "It was badenough for him to nail tin over the holes we gnawed into his grain-bins, but this is worse still. It needn't make us so much trouble, but ithurts my feelings. "

"What is it?" asked her cousin. 

"A trap!" said she. "A horrible, shining trap. The Rat from the otherfarm told me about it. It lies open and flat on the floor of agrain-bin, --the very one you and I gnawed into last night, --and there isa lovely piece of cheese in the middle of it. The Rat who told me aboutit says that as soon as one touches the cheese, the trap springs shut onhim. "

"Bah!" exclaimed the young Rat who had just eaten breakfast in thePig-pen. "Let it stay there! We don't have to touch it, although I domean to look at it some time. I believe in knowing about things. "

"I wish you wouldn't look at it, " said his cousin, who was very fond ofhim. 

"The Rat from the other farm says it is very dangerous to even look attraps, especially if your stomach is empty. "

"Then the Rat from the other farm might better keep away, " said thisyoung fellow, as he put one paw up to see that his whiskers were allright. "I don't think very much of him anyway. He thinks he knowseverything because he has travelled. I wish you would have nothing to dowith him. I dare say you were in the grain-bin with him when you saw thetrap. "

"Yes, " said she, "I was. "

"Well, " said he, "you both got away safely, and I shall too. I may notbe very clever, but I think I do know enough to keep out of a trap. "Then he turned into his hole and went to sleep. He had been runningaround all night, and was very tired. He was cross, too. This was thesecond time that his cousin had told him what the Rat from the otherfarm had said, and he thought she liked him altogether too well. 

When he awakened, it was night again and he was aroused by the stampingof the Dappled Gray on the floor above his head. For a minute he couldhardly think where he was. Then it all came to him. He was in his owncozy little hole under the barn, and it was night. He rememberedsomething about the Yellow Kitten. What was it? Oh yes, she had begunhunting. Well, he was not afraid of her yet. But there was somethingelse--the trap! He wondered if his cousin were in that bin again. Aslike as not her friend, the Rat from the other farm, was showing her thetrap now. He would go up there himself, and at once, too. 

He ran up the wall, through an opening, and across the barn floor to thegrain-bin. It was a moonlight night and the barn was not very dark. Thecover of the bin was raised. Perhaps the farmer's man had forgotten toclose it. Perhaps there was so little grain left in it that the mandidn't care to. At any rate, he could now see the trap quite plainly. There was nobody else in the bin, and he went close to it. 

"I would not touch it for anything, " said he, as he entered the bin, "but it will not hurt me to look at it. "

When he went nearer, he was very careful to see that his tail did noteven brush against the chain which held the trap down. "So that is theterrible, dangerous trap?" said he. "It doesn't look particularlydreadful. That is fine-smelling cheese though. " He sniffed two or threetimes. "I have tasted cheese only once in my whole life, " said he, "andI am almost starved now. I wouldn't mind a nibble at that. " He looked atit and thought about it until it seemed to him he could not go away andleave that cheese there. 

Then he thought, "If I am very careful to step over these shining steelthings and rest my feet only on the floor, it cannot spring the trap. Then I will snatch the cheese and jump. .. . I am pretty sure I can doit. .. . Why, yes, I know I can. " So the Rat who had come just to look atthe trap, began to lift first one foot and then another over the shiningcurved bars, and got all ready to catch up the cheese and run. 

"Now!" he cried. "One, two, three!" He did snatch it and jump, but thetrap jumped, too, in its own trappy way, and the Rat who got the cheeseleft the three tip rings of his tail to pay for it. "Ouch!" he cried. "My tail! My tail! My beautiful, long, bony tail, all covered withscales and short hair!" He did not care at all for the cheese now. Hedid not want to see it, for he would rather have had the point on histail again than to eat a whole binful of cheese. 

"How it will look!" said he. "So stumpy and blunt. And it has been sovery useful always. I could wind it around a stick to hold myself upwhen my paws were full, and many a time I have rolled eggs across thefloor by curling it around them. " Then he heard Rat voices and scamperedout and down to his own hole. 

His cousin and the Rat from the other farm came into the bin. "Don'tlook at the trap, " he was saying, "but just eat your grain from thefarther corner. "

"I won't, " she answered, and she half closed her eyes to keep fromseeing it. He was beside her and they stumbled over the cheese, whichnow lay on the floor away from the trap. "How does this happen?" saidhe. "We will eat it first and then find out. " By this advice he showedthat he was a Rat of excellent sense. 

When they had eaten it, they began to look toward the trap. As there wasno longer any cheese in it to tempt them, they felt perfectly safe indoing so. They found that it had been sprung, and there lay the lastthree rings of some Rat's tail. 

"How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "I hope that was not lost by any of ourfriends. "

"Hum-hum!" said the Rat from the other farm. "Now, whom have I seenwearing that? I have certainly seen that tail before--it was yourcousin!"

"Poor fellow!" said she. "I must go to see him. "

"Oh, don't go now, " cried the Rat from the other farm. "I think he mightwant to be alone for a while. Besides, " he added coaxingly, "you haven'ttasted of the grain yet, and it is very good. "

"W-well, " answered she, "perhaps my cousin would just as soon not haveme come now. " So she waited, and the Rat from the other farm told herwonderful stories of his travels, and they had a very fine supper. 

When her cousin began to run around again, he was a much sadder andwiser Rat. Sometimes the younger Rats would ask him how he lost the tipof his tail. "By not turning it toward a tempting danger, " he wouldanswer, very solemnly. Then, after he had told them the story, he alwaysadded, "The time to turn your tail toward a tempting danger is theminute you see it, for if you wait and look and long for something youought not to take, there is sure to be trouble, and many a Rat has lostmore than the tip of his tail in just that way. "

THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER

There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having hisown way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, andsometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, theHens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and hegobbled a gruff "Move along, " they murmured "Oh, certainly, " andscampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock waslarger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could siton a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he didnot care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in eachother's way. 

There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who werefond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when theGobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. Thiswas polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever ofthe way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made herwattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stoodit--no, indeed!

When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers andsmiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she wouldnot. " The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winkedhis round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a featheron the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw herlaugh--if she did laugh. 

The Black Spanish fowls were kind-hearted and honest, and had finemanners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any onewho was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Cockhad once--only once--but then, perhaps it would be just as well not totell what the other fowls had heard about their family quarrel, for, after all, it did not come very straight, the Pigs having told theGeese, and the Geese telling the Ducks, and the Ducks just mentioning itto the Peacock, and the Peacock having spoken of it to the Dorking Hen. 

It was now late in the fall, and all the Turkeys went walking togetheragain. One would think that, after being separated from the rest allsummer and part of the spring, the Gobbler would have been very politewhen he joined them, but no; he was more quick-tempered than ever. Hewas not fond of young Turkeys, and their constant chattering annoyedhim. "Can't you find some way to keep those children quiet?" he wouldsay, and made such a fuss that the Hen Turkeys called them aside andtried to amuse them for a while. 

Hen Turkeys are most loving mothers, and in the early spring first oneand then another had stolen away to lay and hatch her eggs. If a HenTurkey wanted a chance to lay an egg at this season, she watched theGobbler and left the flock when his back was turned. As she came nearher nest, she would stop and look around to make sure he did not seewhere it was. She knew that the Gobbler did not like to have her raiseyoung Turkeys, and that if he could find the nest, he would break everyegg in it. After she had laid her egg, she would wander back in acareless way, quite as though she had only been to the watering-troughfor a drink. 

Once the Hen Turkeys had talked about this when the Gobbler could nothear. "It doesn't seem right not to tell him, " the youngest had said. 

"Well, my dear, " said another, "it is the only way we can do, if we wantto save our eggs and raise our children. Gobblers always act in thatway. "

"Are you sure?" said the young Hen Turkey. 

"Sure!" was the answer. "You wouldn't be here to-day if your motherhadn't done as we do. "

So the youngest Hen Turkey had changed her mind and hidden her eggs likethe rest, for, in spite of aching legs and all that is hard in hatchingeggs, Hen Turkeys always want to raise broods in the springtime. Whenone of them had laid as many eggs as she wanted to hatch, she begansitting on them, and would not walk with the flock at all. One by onethe Hen Turkeys had done this until the Gobbler was left quite alone. Hedid not like it at all, and wanted more than ever to find and break theeggs. When the Turkey Chicks were hatched, their mothers kept them outof the Gobbler's way, because, you know, he did not like small childrenand it was better that they should not meet. 

The Hen Turkeys were very sorry for him, and often wished that he mightwatch with them the growth of their piping darlings, to see the tinyfeathers push their way through the down and broaden and lengthen untilthere was no down to be seen--only feathers. It was too bad; yet thatwas the way in all Turkey families, and the Gobblers couldn't helpdisliking the children any more than the Hen Turkeys could help wantingto sit in the springtime. 

By another year the Gobbler would love the young Turkeys dearly. Evennow he did not try to strike them, as he might have done a while before. They were afraid of him, yet down in their hearts the brothers allthought that when they were grown up they wanted to be just like himand strut around with their wings trailing, their tails spread, theirnecks drawn back, and their feathers ruffled. Then, they thought, whenother people came near them, they would puff and gobble and cry, "Getout of my way!" They tried it once in a while to see how it would seem, but they were still slender and their voices were not yet deep enough. The sisters laughed at them when they did this, and that made them feelvery uncomfortable. The long, limp red wattles that grew out betweentheir eyes became redder and redder as they swung to and fro under theirshort, thick bills. 

"Just wait, " said one young fellow to another. "Just you wait until I amreally grown up and strut before your sister next spring. I don't thinkshe will laugh at me then. " And he comforted himself by eating fullytwice as much grain as he should have done. 

The farmer's little girl came into the farmyard, and all the fowlsstopped eating to look at her. She was so young that she had neverbefore been out there alone. Her father had brought her in his arms, andshe had laughed with delight and clapped her little hands when thefarmyard people passed by her. Now she had slipped out of the house andstood in the sunshine smiling at every one. She came without a cap, andthe wind blew her soft yellow curls around her rosy face. It flutteredher red dress, too, and the Gobbler saw it and became exceedingly angry. 

"Red-red-red!" he cried. "Why in the world did she wear red? I hate it!"He stalked toward her in his most disagreeable way, and you could tellby the stiff brushing of his wing-tips on the ground that he was veryangry. "Get away from here!" he cried. "This is my home and little girlscan't wear red dresses when they visit me. Pffff! Get away!"

The little girl turned to run as the big Gobbler came puffing towardher. In her fright she stumbled and fell, and he hurried forward tostrike her. The Black Spanish Cock began to ruffle his neck feathers andstretch his head forward. He did not mean to have their visitor treatedso. He ran between the Gobbler's feet and they tumbled over together. The little girl picked herself up and hurried into the house. 

If the Gobbler was angry before, he was much more so after his fall. "What do you mean, sir, " he said, "by tripping me?"

"And what do you mean, " said the Black Spanish Cock, "by knocking meover?"

"Pffff! You were under my feet. "

"Erruuuu! You were over my head. "

Now nobody had dared to disagree with the Gobbler in so long that he didnot know what to make of it, and when the Shanghai Cock strolled overto help his friend, the Gobbler was fairly sputtering with rage. "Ah, Gobbler, " said the Shanghai, "wonder what has become of the little girl?It was nice of her to come out here, and I wish she had stayed longer. "

[Illustration: THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER. ]

"I told her to get away, " was the answer. "She had on a red dress. Ichased her. I always have chased anybody who wore red, and I alwaysshall. It's my way. "

"Is it your way, too, to be cross whenever you feel like it?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be cross when I didn't feel like it, " answeredthe Gobbler. 

"Some of us are not cross when we do feel like it, " said the DorkingCock. "I am always happier for keeping my temper when I can. "

"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. "That is not my way. I say right out what Ithink, and then I am all right again and forget all about it. "

"Humph!" said the Bantam Hen. "I wonder if the other people forget assoon? It would do him more good to remember it and feel sorry. He needsa lesson. " Then she stalked up to him, looking as brave as you please, although she was really quite frightened. "I never noticed it before, "she cackled, "but the tuft of hairy feathers on your breast isdreadfully ragged. And what very ugly looking feet you have! If I weregoing to have any webs between my toes I should want good big ones likethose of the Ducks and Geese, not snippy little halfway webs like yours. I hope you don't mind my speaking of it. I always say what I think. It'sjust my way, and I never remember it afterward. " She gave a gracefulflutter and a queer little squawk, and was off before the Gobbler gotover his surprise. 

Fowls do enjoy a joke, and now the Dorking Cock took his turn. "I'vealways wanted to know how you spread your tail in that fashion. It's agood time to see. " He walked up beside the Gobbler and pecked and pulleduntil three feathers lay on the ground. "Ah, " said the Dorking Cock, "Isee I loosened some of your tail feathers. I hope you don't mind. It isjust my way, when I want to know about anything, to find out as soon asI can. "

And so one fowl after another teased and troubled the Gobbler, andexplained afterward that "it was just their way. " Then they laughed athim and ran off. 

It would be nice if one could say that the Gobbler never again lost histemper, but he did, a great many times, for he should have begun tomaster it when he was a Chick. But one can tell truly that he neveragain excused his crossness by saying that "it was only his way. " Theyoungest Duckling in the poultry-yard had always known that this was noexcuse at all, and that if people have disagreeable habits which makeothers unhappy, it is something of which they should be much ashamed. 

THE BRAGGING PEACOCK

The farmyard people will never forget the coming of the Peacock; orrather they will never forget the first day that he spent with them. Hecame in the evening after all the fowls had gone to roost, and theirfour-legged friends were dozing comfortably in meadow and pasturecorners, so nobody saw him until the next morning. 

You can imagine how surprised they were when a beautiful great fowl ofgreenish-blue strutted across the yard, holding his head well in the airand dragging his splendid train behind him. The fowls were just startingout for their daily walks, and they stopped and held one foot in theair, and stared and stared and stared. They did not mean to be rude, but they were so very much surprised that they did not think what theywere doing. Most of them thought they were asleep and dreaming, and thedream was such a beautiful one that they did not want to move and breakit off. They had never seen a Peacock and did not even know that therewas such a fowl. 

A Lamb by the pasture fence called to his mother. "Ba-baa!" cried he. "One of the cloud-birds is walking in the farmyard. " He was thinking ofthe night of the storm, when all the Sheep and Lambs huddled together inthe meadow and watched the clouds, and thought that they were birds anddropped shining worms from their beaks. 

Then the Peacock, who understood the Sheep language perfectly, said, "Paon! I am no cloud-bird. I am a Peacock. " He said this in a veryhaughty way, as though to be a Peacock were the grandest thing in theworld, far better than having one's home in the sky and bringing showersto refresh the thirsty earth-people. 

The Turkey Gobbler never could stand it to have others speak in that waywhen he was around, so he thought he would show the newcomer howimportant he was. He drew up his neck and puffed out his chest; hepulled his skin muscles by thinking about them, and that made hisfeathers stand on end; next he dropped his wings until their tipstouched the ground; then he slowly spread his tail. "Pffff!" said he. "Iam no Peacock. I am a Turkey Gobbler. "

The Hen Turkeys looked at each other with much pride. They were a littleafraid of him themselves, but they liked to have him show the newcomerthat Turkeys are important people. Their children looked at each otherand murmured, "Isn't the Gobbler fine though? Guess the Peacock willwish now that he hadn't put on airs. "

But the Peacock did not seem to feel at all sorry. He stood and lookedat them all without saying a word, and they all wondered what he wasthinking. Then a Duckling who stood near him exclaimed, "Look at histrain! Oh, look at his train!" Everybody looked and saw all thosebeautiful long feathers rising into the air. Up and up they went, andspreading as they rose, until there was a wonderful great circle of themback of his body and reaching far above his head. The Gobbler's spreadtail looked as small beside this as a Dove's egg would beside that of aGoose. 

"Paon!" said the Peacock. "I am no Turkey Gobbler. I am a Peacock. "

"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. Then he turned to the Hen Turkeys. "Mydears, " he said, "I think it is time that we walked along. The childrenshould not be allowed to see and speak with any stray fowl that comesalong. We cannot be too particular about that. " Then he stalked off, with the meek Hen Turkeys following and the children lagging behind. They did so want to stay and see the Peacock, and they thought theDucklings and Goslings were much luckier than they. 

The Geese were delighted with the newcomer, and hoped he would be quitefriendly with them. They wished he were a swimmer, but of course theycould tell with one look that he was not. He did not have the trim, boat-shaped body that swimmers have, and then, his feet were not webbed. The Gander noticed that they were remarkably homely feet. He thought hewould remember this and speak of it to the Geese some time when theywere praising the Peacock's train. 

The Drake was the first to speak politely to the Peacock. "We are gladto meet you, sir, " he said. "Will you be with us long?"

"Thank you, " answered the Peacock. "I have come to stay. "

"We hope you will like it here. I'm sorry to see you do not swim. Weshould be very glad of your company if you did. You will excuse us if wego on to the brook. We are late already. " He and all of his familywaddled away to the water. "A fine-looking fellow, " said he heartily. "Even my cousins, the Mallard Ducks, have not such a beautiful sheen ontheir neck feathers. " The Drake was a kind, warm-hearted fellow, and itnever troubled him to know that other people were handsomer than he. 

The Geese were eager to reach the water, too, but they could not leavewithout asking one question. First they told the Gander to ask it, buthe replied that if they wanted to know, they should ask it forthemselves. Then they hung back and said to each other, "You ask him. Ican't. " At last the Gray Goose stepped forward, saying, "Excuse us, sir. You said that you were to stay with us, and we wish to know if youwork for your living. "

"I work!" cried he. "Paon! Never. The farmer invited me here to bebeautiful, that is all. "

"We are so glad, " cackled the Geese, and the Gander joined with them. "So many of the people here work. They are very good, but not at allgenteel, you understand. "

"And don't you do anything?" asked the Peacock. "I thought Geese grewfeathers for beds and pillows. It seems to me you look rather ragged. Haven't you been plucked?"

This was very embarrassing to the Geese. "Why, yes, " they said, "we dolet the farmer's wife have some feathers once in a while, when theweather is warm, but that is very different from really working, youknow. "

"Perhaps, " said the Peacock. "If they want any of my feathers, they canwait until I moult. Then you will see how much they think of me, forwhenever they find one of my train feathers (not tail, if you please;every bird has a tail, but I have a train) they carry it carefully intothe house to be made into a duster for the parlor. I never give away anybut my cast-off plumage. I am so very, very beautiful that I do not haveto work. "

This impressed the Geese very much. "We are glad to know you. Quitehonored, we assure you!"

The Peacock bowed his crested head, and they bowed their uncrested andvery silly ones, and then they went to the river. The Peacock thoughtthem most agreeable, because they admired him, and they thought him thebest sort of acquaintance, because he didn't work. It was all veryfoolish, but there are always foolish people in the world, you know, andit is much better to be amused by it and a little sorry for them, thanfor us to lose our tempers and become cross about it. That was the waythe Shanghais, Black Spanish, Dorking, and Bantam fowls felt. They werepolite enough to the newcomer, but they did not run after him. TheChickens used to laugh when the Peacock uttered his cry of "Paon! Paon!"His voice was harsh and disagreeable, and it did seem so funny to hearsuch dreadful sounds coming from such a lovely throat. 

The Black Spanish Cock reproved the Chickens sharply for this. "It isvery rude, " said he, "to laugh at people for things they cannot help. How would you like to have a Lamb follow you around and bleat, 'Look atthat Chicken! He has only two legs! Hello, little two-legs; how can youwalk?' It is just as bad for you to laugh at his harsh voice, because hecannot help it. If he should say foolish and silly things, you mightlaugh, because he could help that if he tried. Don't ever again let mehear you laughing when he is just saying 'Paon. '"

The Chickens minded the Black Spanish Cock, for they knew he was rightand that he did not do rude things himself. They remembered everythinghe said, too. 

One day the Peacock was standing on the fence alone. He did this most ofthe time. He usually stood with his back to the farmyard, so that peoplewho passed could see his train but not his feet. A party of young fowlsof all families came along. Their mothers had let them go off bythemselves, and they stopped to look at the Peacock. 

"I do think you have the most beautiful tail, sir, " said a Duckling, giving her own little pointed one a sideways shake as she spoke. 

"Please call it my train, " said the Peacock. "It is beautiful and I amvery proud of it. Not every fowl can grow such a train as that. "

[Illustration: THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE. ]

"Oh, dear, no!" giggled a jolly little Bantam Chicken. "I'd grow one ina minute if I could. "

This made all the other young fowls laugh, for they thought how funnythe little brown Bantam would look dragging around a great mass offeathers like that. 

The Peacock did not even smile. He never understood a joke anyway. Hewas always so busy thinking about himself that he couldn't see thepoint. Now he cleared his throat and spoke to the Bantam Chicken. 

"I hope you don't think that I grew my train in a minute, " said he. "Ittook me a long, long time, although I kept all the feathers going atonce. "

"Look at his crest!" exclaimed one young Turkey in his piping voice. 

The Peacock turned his head so that they could see it more plainly. "That is a crest to be proud of, " he said. "I have never seen a finerone myself. Have you noticed the beauty of my neck?"

"Charming!" "Wonderful!" "Beautiful!" exclaimed the young fowls. Justthen one of the spoiled Dove children flew down from the barn roof andsat beside the Peacock. 

"What homely feet you have!" this Squab exclaimed. "Are you notdreadfully ashamed of them?"

The young fowls thought this rude. Not one of them would have said it. The Peacock became very angry. "I know my feet are not so handsome asthey might be, " he said, "but that is no reason why I should be ashamedof them. I couldn't help having that kind of feet. They run in myfamily. I don't feel ashamed of things I can't help. "

The young fowls felt so uncomfortable after this that they walked away, and the Squab flew back to the Dove-cote. For a time nobody spoke. Thena Gosling, who had heard her mother talk about the Peacock, said, "Ishould think he would be proud of his train, and his crest, and hisneck, and--and everything!"

"Everything except his feet, " giggled the Bantam Chicken, "and you knowhe couldn't help having them. "

"I wonder if he could help having his train, and his crest, and hisneck, and--and everything?" said a young Turkey. 

They all stopped where they were. "We never thought of that!" theycried. "We never thought of that!"

"Let's go and ask the Blind Horse, " said a Duckling. "He is a goodfriend of mine, and he knows almost everything. "

They stalked and waddled over to the Blind Horse, and the Duckling toldhim what was puzzling them. The Blind Horse laughed very heartily. "Sothe Peacock is proud of having grown such a fine train and crest, but heisn't ashamed of his homely feet, because he couldn't help havingthose! There is no reason for either pride or shame with the Peacock. Hehas just such a body as was given him, and he couldn't make one feathergrow differently if he tried. "

"I don't see what anybody can be proud of, then, " said a Gosling sadly;for, you see, she wanted to be proud of something. 

"Be proud of what you have done yourself, " said the Blind Horse gently. "Be proud of keeping clean, or of telling the truth, or of speakingpleasantly when things go wrong. There are plenty of chances to be proudin a good way, if one must be proud. "

THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN

"Well, " said the Gobbler, "I should like to know what next! Last springit was the White Pig, when we had never had any but black and brown oneson the place. Next it was Ducks, because one of the farmer's boys wantedthem. Then it was the Peacock, to please the farmer's wife. Now it isGuinea Fowls for the farmer's other son. Society isn't what it used tobe here, and while some of the new people may be very pleasant, I mustsay that I preferred the good old quiet days. "

"I think it is lovely, " cackled the cheerful little Bantam Hen. "Onehears so much of the world outside, and for people like myself, whostay at home, that is a good thing. Everybody loved the White Pig beforeshe had been here two days, and my children are very fond of theDucklings. I like to have them together, too, for after I had told thempositively that my Chickens could not go in swimming, they stoppedteasing and became most delightful playmates. "

"What would you say about the Peacock?" asked the Shanghai Cock, who hadnever been friendly with him, although, to tell the truth, the ShanghaiCock was not so grumpy as he used to be. 

"Er--er--well, " said the Bantam Hen, who tried not to say unpleasantthings about people unless she really had to, "he--he is certainlybeautiful, although I can't say that I am fond of hearing him sing. "

This made all the fowls laugh, even the Gobbler looking a little smilingaround the beak on the side where his hanging wattle did not hide hisface. When the Hen Turkeys on the smiling side saw that he was pleased, they began to smile too; and then the Hen Turkeys on the other side, whohadn't been sure that it was safe for them to do so, smiled also. And itdid them all a great deal of good. 

"I didn't see the Guinea Fowls, " said one of the Geese. "We wereswimming when they came. How do they look? Are they handsomely dressed?We shall not call upon them unless they are our kind of people. " It wassome time since their last plucking for the season, and the Geese weregrowing more airy every day now. 

"They are really very peculiar, " said the Black Spanish Hen, "and not atall common-looking. I should call them decidedly genteel. " Here theGeese looked at each other and nodded. They were always talking aboutbeing genteel, although if you had asked them, they might not have beenable to tell what they meant by the word. "They are shaped quite likesmall Hen Turkeys, " added the Black Spanish Hen "and their feathers area dark bluish-gray with round white spots all over them. They do notwear any feathers on top of their heads. When I saw the first one, Ithought she must have lost hers in an accident, but after the otherscame up, I knew it must be the custom in their family. "

"And they are shaped like us?" asked the Hen Turkeys all together. Theywere thinking that perhaps the Black Spanish Hen would call themgenteel-looking also, but she didn't. 

"Very much like you, " she replied. "In fact, I think they said somethingabout being related to your family, although I am not sure. Do youremember, dear?" she said, turning to the Black Spanish Cock. 

"Certainly, " he answered. "The Guinea Hen with the orange-colored legssaid that their family was related to both the Turkeys and the Peacocks, and that they were pleased to see members of those families here. "

"Gobble-gobble-gobble, " called the Gobbler to the Hen Turkeys. "You mustcall upon our relatives as soon as you can. I will go later. I alwayswait to find out more about strangers before calling. It is my way. " Hedidn't stop to think that if everybody waited as long as he did, thestrangers would be very lonely. 

After this, they scattered to feed, and the Hen Turkeys and theirchildren looked for the Guinea Fowls. "Listen, " said one, "and we mayhear them talking to each other. " They stood still, with their headswell up and turned a little to one side. They heard a harsh voicesaying, "Ca-mac! Ca-mac!" and as none of their old friends ever said"Ca-mac!" they knew at once that it was one of the newcomers. Theywalked around the corner of the Sheep-shed, and there found them, aGuinea Cock and two Guinea Hens. One of the Guinea Hens hadorange-colored legs, while the others had dark grayish-brown ones. 

"Good-morning, " said the Hen Turkeys. "Are you the Guinea Fowls?"

"We are, " said the one with the bright-colored legs, "and you are theTurkeys, are you not?"

"We are the Hen Turkeys, " said they, "and these are our children. TheGobbler didn't feel that he could come with us this morning, but he willcome later. He got very tired in Grasshopper season and is hardly overit yet. "

"That is too bad, " said the Guinea Cock politely. "We hope he will soonbe better. It is a hard time for all Turkeys--so much running to andfro, besides the stretching of the neck whenever a Grasshopper comesnear. "

"Perhaps he overate somewhat, " said one of the Hen Turkeys. "We werequite worried about him for a time. He slept so poorly and dreamed thathe was being chased. He always has a good appetite, and you know how itis when there is so much food around. One cannot let it alone. "

So they chatted on about one thing and another, and walked as theyvisited. The Guinea Fowls were more fussy and restless than the Turkeys, and even when they were speaking would run after some dainty bit of foodthat had just caught their eyes. Of course the Hen Turkeys said how gladthey were to have the Guinea Fowls come there to live, and hoped thatthey would enjoy their new home. All of the farmyard people thought it amost delightful place. 

"Oh, yes, " cried the Guinea Hen with the bright-colored legs, "it isvery pleasant, of course, but I wish you could see the farm we left. "

"Why! Was it better than this?" asked the Turkey Chicks, crowding aroundher. They were so surprised that they forgot their mothers' telling themthat if they came they must be very quiet, and making them all repeattogether, "Little Turkeys should be seen and not heard. "

"Better? My dears, it was not to be spoken of in the same breath. Iunderstand that when one has always lived here, this may seem very nice, but when one has known better things, it is hard to be contented. "

"Still, we shall be very happy here, I am sure, " said the other GuineaHen, the one with the brown legs. "People all seem so bright andpleasant. I like it very much indeed. "

"We are glad of that, " said the Turkeys all together. "We really must begoing. We fear we have stayed too long already. The Gobbler will wonderif we are never coming back. Good-morning. "

As they walked off to look for him, one Hen Turkey said to another, "Itmust be hard to come here after living on that farm. "

"Yes, " was the answer, "I suppose that we don't really know what comfortis here. "

When the Gobbler asked them about the Guinea Fowls, and how they wereenjoying their new home, the Hen Turkeys sighed and answered, "Oh, aswell as they can enjoy this farm, we suppose. " The Gobbler was a littlesurprised by this reply, but he said nothing, and as he pecked at thecorn which had just been spilled from the load the Oxen were drawing, hethought, "I wish we could have better corn to eat. This does not tastequite as it should. "

When the Geese met the Guinea Fowls, they began to speak of the pleasureof living on such a fine farm. "Ah, " said the Guinea Hen with thebright-colored legs, "how I wish you might see the one we left when wecame here. It was so different. "

The other Guinea Fowls looked uncomfortable when she spoke in this way, and stood first on one foot and then on the other. Then the Cock saidsomething about the sunshiny fall weather, and the good neighbors, and--and----

The Gander spoke again of the farm. "It is not all that we could wish, "said he; "still there are some good things about it. There are severalswimming places which are fine and cold in winter. "

"If it were only better cared for, " said the Gray Goose. "I had adreadful time a while ago, when I tried to get through a hole in thefence. I don't remember what was the matter with the hole, and perhaps Inever knew, but the farmer should have such things fixed. My neck waslame for days afterward, and he was wholly to blame. "

After this, the Geese found fault with almost everything, and when therewas no one thing to grumble about, they sighed because, "It was sodifferent from what it might be. " It was not long before even the springChickens, the Goslings, and the Ducklings were speaking in the same way, and the poultry-yard was a most doleful place. The Bantam Hen was theonly really cheerful fowl there, and she got so tired of hearing therest sigh and grumble, that she often slipped between the pickets of thefence and went to have a comfortable chat with the Oxen. 

One day she fluttered toward them in a most excited manner. "Do I looknearly crazy?" said she. "I feel so. Ever since our last storm, theGuinea Fowls have been shut in with us, and I would give half of mytail-feathers if they had never come here. That one with theorange-colored legs can't see good in anything, and all of our steady, sensible fowls have heard it until they begin to believe that this farmis a wretched place. "

"What do they do?" asked the Nigh Ox, who always enjoyed hearing theBantam Hen talk. 

"Do?" said she, shaking her dainty little head. "They don't do much ofanything. That is what is the matter, and the young fowls are the worstof all. You know how it used to be at feeding time? We all fluttered andsquabbled for the first chance at the food. Some Hen got the biggestpiece, and then the rest would chase her from one corner to another, andnot give her a chance to break and swallow any of it until she wouldshare with them. It was great fun, and we never left a scrap uneaten. Now, what do you think?"

"Can't imagine, " exclaimed the Oxen in one breath. 

"Well, they all stand around on one foot for a while, and I am the onlyone eating. Then somebody says, 'I wonder if this is any better thanthe last we had. ' Another will groan, 'Oh, is it time to eat again?' or, 'Suppose I must eat something to keep up my strength. ' Then I hear thebright-legged Guinea Hen say, 'Ca-mac! Ca-mac! This is all so different, so very different from what I have been used to. ' The Cock and the otherHen of that family are nice enough if you only get them away from her. "

"What nonsense!" exclaimed the Oxen together, and they spoke quitesharply for them. 

"I wish, " said the Bantam Hen very slowly, and as though she meant everyword--"I wish the bright-legged one were back where it was 'sodifferent. ' Perhaps then my friends would begin to act like themselves. "

"Where did she come from?" asked the Off Ox. "It seems to me that I sawa bright-legged Guinea Hen somewhere not long ago. " He thought veryhard, so hard that he swallowed his cud without knowing he did so. 

"Wasn't it at the place where we took that load of stone the other day?"asked the Nigh Ox, trying to help his brother. He knew how disagreeableit is not to be able to recall anything of that sort. 

"It was, " cried the Off Ox; "and a very poor farm it is. It was the sameHen too. Talk about its being different! I should say it was differentfrom this place, but there are a good many ways of being different. Um-hum! I think I will talk with the discontented Guinea Hen beforelong, and I want you to see that the other fowls are listening when Ido. "

Although he would say nothing more, the Bantam Hen saw from the look inhis eyes that he meant to stop the Guinea Hen's complaining, so she wentaway feeling happier. Then the Off Ox unswallowed his cud and began tochew it as though nothing had happened. His brother heard him chuckleonce in a while, and say, "Different!" under his breath. 

When the Off Ox awakened from time to time during that night and heardthe Guinea Hens talking in the dark, he chuckled again to himself. TheGuinea Cock was a sound sleeper, but the Hens always talked a great dealbetween sunset and sunrise, and especially if it were about to rain. Other people thought that they might talk more in the daytime and thenkeep quiet when their neighbors wanted to sleep. They declared that theyalways remembered so many things to say as soon as they went to roost, and that if they waited until morning they might forget more than half. 

The very next day, the Off Ox had the chance he wanted. He and hisbrother were yoked to the stone-boat and left standing by thepoultry-yard. "Good-afternoon, " said he. "Is the bright-legged GuineaHen here?"

"I am, " she answered, coming close to the pickets. 

"We are just going over to your old home, " said he, "with this load ofstone. Have you any messages to send to your friends?"

The Guinea Hen looked rather uncomfortable, and stood first on one footand then the other. "Tell them I am well, " said she. 

"I will, " said the Off Ox, in his hearty way. "I will try to tell themall. I think I can, too, for there did not seem to be many people inthat farmyard. I didn't see Ducks or Geese at all. Are there any livingthere?"

"No, " said the Guinea Hen. She did not seem to think of anything else tosay, although nobody spoke for a long time. 

"Of course not!" exclaimed the Off Ox. "How stupid of me to ask. Thereis no brook or river on that farm. "

Still the Guinea Hen said nothing. 

"We are dragging stone for their new barn, " said the Off Ox. "Or perhapsI should say for their barn. One could hardly say that they have anyyet, although I suppose they use those loosely built sheds for barns. Iwonder people can spend a winter where there are such drafts; still, home is always home, and people love it for that reason. We are glad tohave your family with us, not only to keep away the Crows (which waspart of the Guinea Fowls' work), but because you will be morecomfortable. I've never yet in all my travels seen so good a farm asthis, and the one you left was so different! Good-bye. "

There was not much talking in the poultry-yard the rest of theafternoon, although most of the fowls looked happier than they had formany days. When supper-time came, the Dorking Hen snatched the biggestpieces of food, and the others chased her from corner to corner in quitethe old way. Every scrap was eaten, and nobody laughed when the ShanghaiCock said that the fine weather had given him a better appetite. It wasreally a dark and chilly day, but they had stopped thinking how muchbetter off they would be if they only lived somewhere else. As soon asthey stopped thinking that, they could see how well they were cared forat home. And so, although nobody had really looked at the sky or thoughtabout the weather, everybody had a feeling that the sun must have beenshining. 

Perhaps the Guinea Cock and the other Guinea Hen were the happiest ofall, for they had not known what to do or say when the bright-legged onetalked about her old home. It all seemed like a joke now, yet she neverliked the Off Ox after that day. The other fowls were as nice to her asever, for they knew it was a sad thing to be so discontented, and theyknew, also, that if they had not been foolish enough to let her, shecould never have made them unhappy. 

THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES

It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in thebarnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled awayat the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered placeunderneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with anover-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strikethem here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when theyhad nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, butit was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else tobe done, for there was always their cud to chew. 

Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular abouttheir food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when thegrass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filledthe first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they wouldfind some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lieeasily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partlychewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this"unswallowing it, " although they should have said "regurgitating. "

After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as theircud, and the stout muscles in the sides of their faces pulled theirlower jaws up and down and sideways, and the food was caught over andover again between the blunt grinding teeth in the back part of theirmouths, and was crushed, squeezed, and turned until it was fine, soft, and ready to swallow into the second stomach. 

Then the Cattle do not have to think of it again, but while they aredoing something quite different, and perhaps forgetting all about it, there are many nerves and muscles and fine red blood-drops as busy ascan be, passing it into the third and fourth stomachs, and changing thestrength of the food into the strength of the Cattle. The Cows and theOxen do not know this. They never heard of muscles and nerves, andperhaps you never did before, yet these are wonderful little helpers andgood friends if one is kind to them. All that Cattle know about eatingis that they must have clean food, that they must eat because they arehungry and not just because it tastes good, and that they must chew itvery carefully. And if they do these things as they should, they arequite sure to be well and comfortable. 

The Oxen were standing by the barn door, and the Calves were talkingabout them. They liked their uncles, the Oxen, very much, but like manyother Calves the world over, they thought them rather slow andold-fashioned. Now the Colts had been saying the same thing, and sothese half-dozen shaggy youngsters, who hadn't a sign of a horn, weretelling what they would do if they were Oxen. Sometimes they spoke moreloudly than they meant to, and the Oxen heard them, but they did notknow this. 

"If I were an Ox, " said one, "I wouldn't stand still and let the farmerput that heavy yoke on my neck. I'd edge away and kick. "

"Tell you what I'd do, " said another. "I'd stand right still when hetried to make me go, and I wouldn't stir until I got ready. "

"I wouldn't do that, " said a third. "I'd run away and upset the stone ina ditch. I don't think it's fair to always make them pull the heavyloads while the Horses have all the fun of taking the farmer to town anddrawing the binder and all the other wonderful machines. "

"Isn't it too bad that you are not Oxen?" said a deep voice behind them. The Calves jumped, and there was the Off Ox close to them. He was sonear that you could not have set a Chicken coop between him and them, and he had heard every word. The Calves did not know where to look orwhat to say, for they had not been speaking very politely. The one whohad just spoken wanted to act easy and as though he did not care, so heraised one hind hoof to scratch his ear, and gave his brushy tail a tossover one flank. "Oh, I don't know, " said he. 

"I used to talk in just that way when I was a Calf, " said the Off Ox, with a twinkle in his large brown eyes. "All Calves think they'll dowonders when they're grown. "

"I know I thought so, " said the Nigh Ox, who had followed his brother. 

"Well, if you wanted to, " asked the Red Calf, "why don't you do thosethings now?" The others wondered how he dared to ask such a question. 

"It doesn't pay, " said the Nigh Ox. "Do all your frisking in playtime. Ilike fun as well as anybody, yet when our yoke is taken from its peg, Isay business is business and the closer we stick to it the better. Iknew a sitting Hen once who wanted to see everything that happened. Shewas always running out to see somebody or other, and sometimes shestayed longer than she meant to. I told her she'd better stick to hernest, and she said she didn't believe in working all the time. "

"How soon did her Chickens hatch?" asked the Calves all together. 

"Never did hatch, of course, " chuckled the Nigh Ox. "She fooled herselfinto thinking she was working, and she made a great fuss about her legsaching and her giving up society, but she couldn't fool that nestful ofeggs. They had gotten cold and they knew it, and not one of them wouldhatch. "

"Wasn't she ashamed then?" asked the Calves. 

"Didn't act so, " snorted the Nigh Ox. "Went around talking about hergreat disappointment, and said she couldn't see why the other Hens hadso much better luck. "

The Off Ox chuckled. "He told her that he guessed it might have beensomething besides bad luck, and that the next time she'd better stay onher nest more. Then she asked him how many broods of Chickens he hadhatched. Ho-ho-ho!"

Everybody laughed, and the Calves wondered how the Nigh Ox could thinkof it without being angry. "It wouldn't pay to be angry, " he said. "What's the use of wasting a fine great Ox temper on a poor little Henrudeness?"

This made them think. They remembered how cross and hot anduncomfortable they often became over very small things that botheredthem, and they began to think that perhaps even Calf tempers were worthcaring for. 

At last the Black Calf, the prettiest one in the yard, said, "Do youlike drawing that flat wagon which hasn't any wheels, and scrapes alongin the dust?"

"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doingour kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shiningknives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast andmake sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriageto carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of theSheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can drawstone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it. "

The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said, "Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would neverreach the end of your journey. "

"We don't think about that, " answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. Weused to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow, flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way throughlife. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. Shecured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly onewing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at atime, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. Shesaid that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do andhow tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live longeither. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay. "

The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always besensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid towork. We will be fine and long-lived cattle. "

"Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the NighOx. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has tobegin over and over again. "

"Oh, no, " they answered. "We know what we can do. "

"You might be mistaken, " said the Oxen gently. 

"I am never mistaken, " said the Red Calf. 

"Neither am I, " said the White Calf. 

"Well, good-morning, " called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are goingto talk with our sisters, the Cows. "

After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way:"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good andsensible like them, but I am going to try. "

"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you wantto be--as easy as eating. "

"Yes, " said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, nowthat I am sure it is foolish to do so. "

"Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be. I can only keep on trying. "

"Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke toher. "Move along, " said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubbywhile I chew my cud. "

"Don't you do it, " cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself. "

[Illustration: THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF. ]

"I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first. "

"Bunt away, then, " said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place. "

"Oh, please don't fight!" exclaimed the Black Calf. "I'll let one of youhave my corner. "

"Don't you move, " cried each of them. "I want to stand by you. " Thenthey lowered their heads and looked into each other's eyes. Next, theyput their hard foreheads together, and pushed and pushed and pushed. Sometimes the Red Calf made the White Calf go backward, and sometimes itwas the other way. Once in a while they stood still and rested. Thenthey began pushing again. 

While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angryall the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said theywould always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside theBlack Calf, and they were having a pleasant visit. "What are thosefellows fighting about?" he asked. 

The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile. "They are fighting, " saidshe, "to see which one shall stand in the cubby with me and chew hiscud. "

The Jersey Calf was a shrewd young fellow of very good family. "Perhaps, " said he, "I ought to stay and guard the place until it isdecided who shall have it. "

"I wish you would, " said she. 

And that was how it happened that the two Calves who lost their tempershad a cross, tiresome, and uncomfortable day, while another had the verycorner which they wanted. When night came, they grumbled because theJersey Calf had come out ahead of them, and they thought it verystrange. But it was not strange, for the people who are quiet andgood-natured always come out ahead in the end. And the people who are sovery sure that it is easy to be good when they really want to, are justthe very ones who sometimes do not want to when they should. 

The Black Calf was right. The only way to be sensible and happy is totry and try and try, and it does pay. 

 * * * * *

Among the Forest People. 

By CLARA D. PIERSON. 

Illustrated by F. C. Gordon. 

12mo, 220 pages, cloth, gilt top--$1. 25. 

[Illustration]

"A most charming series of stories for children--yes, and for childrenof all ages, both young and old--is given us in the volume before us. Noone can read these realistic conversations of the little creatures ofthe wood without being most tenderly drawn toward them, and each storyteaches many entertaining facts regarding the lives and habits of theselittle people. Mothers and teachers must welcome this little book mostcordially. One cannot speak too strongly in praise of it. "--_BostonTranscript. _

"In pleasant story-telling guise, much information is conveyed, and thepictures are a further help. A clever and charming book. "--_PhiladelphiaEve. Telegraph. _

"Is a book that every child will like to read. "--_Hartford Courant. _

"The scheme of the book is felicitous, and it is worked out with anacute and sympathetic appreciation of methods for enlisting theattention and impressing intelligently the memory of children. Theillustrations are distinctly helpful. "--_Troy Daily Press. _

"One does not know which to admire most--the intimate footing upon whichthe author stands with the forest folk, or the intelligent sympathy shehas with sweet child life. She seems to be equally in touch withboth. "--_Churchman. _

Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 

E. P. DUTTON & CO. , Publishers, 31 West 23d Street, New York. 

 * * * * *

"_Many a mother and teacher will accord a vote of thanks tothe author. _"

[Illustration]

~Among the Meadow People. ~

STORIES OF FIELD LIFE, WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE ONES. 

By CLARA D. PIERSON. 

Illustrated by F. C. GORDON. 

 12mo, 127 pages, cloth, gilt top $1. 25. 

 * * * * *

"One of the daintiest and in many ways most attractive of the many booksof nature study which the past year has brought forth. "--_BostonAdvertiser. _

"They are like Mrs. Gatty's well-known 'Parables from Nature, ' writtenin the best of English, as fascinating as fairy tales, and yet 'reallytrue, ' a quality which we all know appeals to the childish mind. "--_N. Y. Evangelist. _

"We have seen nothing better for its purpose, and hope many a teacher ofkindergartens and many a mother may avail herself of the privilege ofusing these little tales. "--_N. Y. Christian Advocate. _

"It will be a great advance in the work of education in the school andthe home when such books are more generally utilized. "--_Zion's Herald. _

"These charming stories of field life will delight many a child ofkindergarten age; and it is safe to say that older brothers and sisterswill also want to claim a share in them. "--_Christian Register. _

 * * * * *

Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 

 E. P. DUTTON & CO. , Publishers, 31 West 23d Street, New York.