hurriedly ate her dinner while he stood by, repulsing the advances of the
few brown ducks who remained near and seemed inclined to attack her.

When she had eaten enough Lady Blanche joined them, and they went down
the hill together to their favourite swimming-place. After that Miss
Crippletoes always followed a little behind her protectors, and thus
shielded and fed she grew stronger and well-feathered, though she was
always smaller than she should have been and had a lowly manner, keeping
a few steps in the rear of her superiors and sitting at some distance
from their noon resting-place.

Phoebe noticed after a while that Lady Blanche was seldom to be seen, and
Sir Muscovy and Miss Crippletoes often came to their meals without her.
The would-be mother refused to inhabit the house Phoebe had given her,
and for a long time the place she had chosen for her sitting could not be
found. At length the Square Baby discovered her in a most ideal spot. A
large boulder had dropped years ago into the brook that fills our duck-
pond; dropped and split in halves with the two smooth walls leaning away
from each other. A grassy bank towered behind, and on either side of the
opening, tall bushes made a miniature forest where the romantic mother
could brood her treasures while her two guardians enjoyed the water close
by her retreat.

All this happened before my coming to Thornycroft Farm, but it was I who
named the hero and heroines of the romance when Phoebe had told me all
the particulars. Yesterday morning I was sitting by my open window. It
was warm, sunny, and still, but in the country sounds travel far, and I
could hear fowl conversation in various parts of the poultry-yard as well
as in all the outlying bits of territory occupied by our feathered
friends. Hens have only three words and a scream in their language, but