"Why, what's the matter?" demanded Mother as she hurried to the edge
of the sidewalk followed by the singer lady, whose acquaintance with
the young Pikes had long before ripened to the stage of intimate
friendship. At the sight of her sympathetic face, Eliza, the first
Pike, slipped to the ground and buried her head in her new but
valued friend's dainty muslin skirt. Bud, the next rung of the stair
steps licked out his tongue to dispose of a mortifying tear and
little Susie sobbed outright. At this juncture, just as Mother was
about to demand again an explanation of such united woe, Mrs. Pike
came to the door, and a large spoon and a bottle full of amber,
liquid grease made further inquiry unnecessary.

"Sakes, Mis' Mayberry, I certainly am glad you have came over to
back me up in getting down these doses of oil. Ez," with an
indignant and contemptuous glance at her sullen husband, "don't want
me to give it to 'em. He'd rather they'd up and die than to stand
the ruckus, but I ain't a-going to let my own children perish for a
few cherry seeds with a bottle of oil in the house and Doctor Tom
Mayberry's prescription to give 'em a spoonful all around." Mrs.
Pike was short and stout, but with a martial and determined eye, and
as she spoke she began to measure out a first dose with her glance
fixed on young Bud, who turned white around his little mouth and
clung to the fence. Susie's sobs rose to a wail and Eliza shuddered
in Miss Wingate's skirt.

"Wait a minute, Mis' Pike," said Mother hurriedly, "are you sure
they have et cherry seeds? Cherries ain't ripe yet, and--"

"We didn't--we didn't!" came in a perfect chorus of wails from the
little fence birds.