Judging from what I heard and knew of their habits, I am sure the
excitement of the previous morning was occasioned by the hatching of the
eggs, and that Lady Blanche had hastily sent her friend to call Sir
Muscovy, the family remaining together until they could bring the babies
with them and display their beauty to Phoebe and me.




CHAPTER X


July 14th.

We are not wholly without the pleasures of the town in Barbury Green.
Once or twice in a summer, late on a Saturday afternoon, a procession of
red and yellow vans drives into a field near the centre of the village.
By the time the vans are unpacked all the children in the community are
surrounding the gate of entrance. There is rifle-shooting, there is
fortune-telling, there are games of pitch and toss, and swings, and
French bagatelle; and, to crown all, a wonderful orchestrion that goes by
steam. The water is boiled for the public's tea, and at the same time
thrilling strains of melody are flung into the air. There is at present
only one tune in the orchestrion's repertory, but it is a very good tune;
though after hearing it three hundred and seven times in a single
afternoon, it pursues one, sleeping and waking, for the next week. Phoebe
and I took the Square Baby and went in to this diversified entertainment.
There was a small crowd of children at the entrance, but as none of them
seemed to be provided with pennies, and I felt in a fairy godmother mood,