into the barn and settle down to live happily together ever after."

"I think that will be lovely," I answered, while beautiful Mrs. Bird made
her reply with a consenting cluck. I never supposed I would make an
affirmative answer to a domestic proposal that was at least uncertain of
intent, but then I also never dreamed of being in the position of guardian
to eleven head of prize live stock, and I think anything I did or said
under the circumstances was excusable.

"Don't you want to come with me and bring the cock with you. Old Rufus
wouldn't touch one of them for a gold rock," he asked, and I felt slightly
aggrieved when I discovered that I was to know when I was being addressed
by a lack of any term of endearment, though the caressing flutiness of
Adam's voice was the same to me as to any one of the Ladies Leghorn.

"Naw, Marster, chickens am my hoodoo. To tetch one makes my flesh crawl
like they was walking on my grave, and if little Mis' will permit of me, I
wanter git back to see to the browning of my muffins ginst the time Mas'
Cradd rars at me fer his supper," and without waiting for the consent he
had asked, old Rufus shuffled hurriedly back into the house.

"I'll bring Mr. Golden Bird. I adore the creeps his feathers give me," I
said as I reached in the coach and took the Sultan in my arms. He gave not
a single note of remonstrance, but I suppose it was imagination that made
me think that he fluffed himself into my embrace with friendly joy.

"Come on, let's put them for to-night over in the feed-room. There, ladies,
did you ever see a greater old barn than this?" As he spoke to us he led
the way with four of the admiring and obedient Ladies, in his arms, while
the fifth, who was I, followed him into the deep, purple, hay-scented