THE TURNING-POINT
In a twinkling he had told her of his miserable life and his abject need of sympathy.
“There are times,” he said, “when, I give you my word, I would rather be stewed for dinner than lead my present existence! It is weak for me to trouble you with my difficulties, but you have always understood me from the first.”
“Say no more,” she replied. “I am a woman and pity is akin to love. The fowls of Amanda Dalton’s flock do not need me as you do. Eleven eggs a day are laid here regularly, and I will go where my egg will be a daily source of pleasure and profit.”
“The coop is draughty and the corn scarce,” confessed the rooster, doing his best to be noble.
“I am of the sex created especially to supply companionship,” returned the hen, “therefore I will accompany you, regardless of personal inconvenience.”
Amanda saw the departure of the eloping couple and pursued them not.
“Land sakes!” she exclaimed, “if any
107
