basketful of fresh eggs, and she promised me some waffles and scrambled
eggs. You know I adore waffles and scrambled eggs, Uncle Squire."

Suddenly the child burst into a ringing peal of laughter. Something very
funny was evidently suggested by the eggs.

"O, Uncle Squire," she cried, "did I tell you how I got the best of Jemimy
at last?"

"Iz dat de hen dat's been so bobstreperous, you bin tellen' me erbout, Lil
Missus?"

"The very same, Uncle Squire. O 'twas nice, the way I managed her
yesterday. I let all of the good hens out, and I said, 'Jemimy, you've got
to stay in. You haven't been doing your duty lately at all. I am just
ashamed of you. You will ruin your reputation. People will stop coming
here to get your eggs to set with." Aunt Betsy says, "Jemimy, A bird that
can sing, and wont sing, ought to be made to sing, and I am going to do my
duty by you. I am just going to keep you in here until you get in the
habit, the habit, you hear, Jemimy, of laying one egg a day.' You know,
Uncle Squire, habit is every thing. Jemimy cackled, just like she was
going right at it. But I said, 'No, Jemimy, you've fooled me before.' Then
she ruffled up her feathers and flew around, determined to get out. I was
firm with her, Uncle Squire, and wouldn't let her out. This evening I went
there and found two beautiful eggs, fresh laid, in her nest."

"You iz er sharp one, Lil Missus; I allers sed it. Who'd s'poze now you
cud make dat hen underston' lak er human creeter, dat she gotter turn over
er new leaf en do better. Pear-lak, sum chillen's born'd en de wurl'
now-er-days wid ez much sense ez grow'd-up fo'ks."