pleased at being spared the distasteful task of killing the poor chicken.
"Naughty girl!" began Miss Henny, when the sound of voices made both listen. "Slip in there, and see what is going on," said the mistress, well knowing that her stout person never could be squeezed into the small space between house and fence.
Roxy, being thin, easily obeyed, and in a whisper telephoned what went on beyond the hole, causing Miss Henny much vexation, surprise, and at last real pleasure, as the child performed her little part in the mission she had undertaken.
"Oh, please, it's all my fault! I kept the hole open, Mr. Thomas, and so Banty flied in. But it isn't hurt a bit, and I've brought it home all safe, cause I know you love your chickies, and Tabby ate lots of em," said the childish voice in its most conciliatory tone.
"Why didn't you fling it over the wall, as I did the cat?" asked Mr. Dover, smiling, as he shut up the truant fowl, and turned to look at the rosy, breathless child, whose pink frock bore the marks of many a tumble on grass and gravel.
"It would hurt Banty's feelings, and yours too, and not be polite. So I came myself, to make some pollygies, and say it was my fault. But, please, could I keep the hole to peep through, if I always put up a board when I go away? It is so dull in there, and so sweet in here!"
"Don't you think a little gate would be nicer,—one just big enough for you, with a hook to fasten it?
