When mamma calls from the window, "Lottie, Lottie!" she answers, very
pleasantly, "What, ma'am?" for she hopes mamma will say, "Here's a nice
turnover for you;" or, "Cousin Alice has come to see you." But when the
answer is "It is time to come in," the wrinkles appear on Lottie's
forehead, and her voice is a very different one, as she says, "Oh, dear,
I don't want to! _Why_ need I come in now?"

When papa says, "Little daughter, I want you to do an errand for me,"
Lottie whines, and asks, "_Why_ can't Benny do it?"

Out in the field Old Biddy Brown has four wee chickens, little soft
downy balls, scarcely bigger than the eggs they came from just one week
ago.

They are very spry, and run all about. When the mother Biddy finds any
nice bit, she clucks; and every little chick comes running to see what
is wanting.

When it grows chilly, and she fears they will take cold, she says,
"Cluck, cluck, cluck!" and they all run under her warm feathers as fast
as they can.

Just now Mother Biddy gave a very loud call, and every chicken was under
her wings in a minute; and up in the sky I saw a hawk, who had been
planning to make a good dinner of these same chickens. I could not help
thinking, how well for them, that they did not stop, like Lottie, to
ask, "Why?"

Down came the hawk with a fierce swoop, as if he meant to take the old