"
Miss Vesta was angry. A bright spot burned in her cheeks, and she was
about to speak hastily; but Miss Rejoice raised a gentle hand, and
motioned her to be silent.
"Martha Penny has a sharp way, Melody," said Miss Rejoice; "but she
meant no unkindness, I think. The rose is very sweet," she added;
"there are no other roses so sweet, to my mind. And how are the hens
this morning, dearie?"
The child clapped her hands, and laughed aloud. "Oh, we have had such
fun!" she cried. "Top-knot was very cross at first, and would not let
the young speckled hen eat out of the dish with her. So I took one
under each arm, and sang and talked to them till they were both in a
good humor. That made the Plymouth rooster jealous, and he came and
drove them both away, and had to have a petting all by himself. He is
such a dear!"
"You do spoil those hens, Melody," said Miss Vesta, with an
affectionate grumble. "Do you suppose they'll eat any better for being
talked to and sung to as if they were persons?"
"Poor dears!" said the child; "they ought to be happy while they do
live, oughtn't they, Auntie? Is it time to make the cake now, Aunt
Vesta, or shall I get my knitting, and sing to Auntie Joy a little?"
At that moment a clear whistle was heard outside the house.
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