. And when their fans are down, they
carry them so daintily, straight out, not a single feather trailing
on the ground. There are two white peacocks on the Adirondacks
place."

"_White_ peacocks! I never heard of white ones."

"They're not common."

"Think of seeing a dozen peacocks every day!" Dicky exclaimed.
"Jiminy crickets! Why, Maida, your life must have been just like a
fairy-tale when you lived there."

"It seems more like a fairy-tale here."

They laughed at this difference of opinion.

"Dicky," Maida asked suddenly, "do you know that Rosie steals out of
her window at night sometimes when her mother doesn't know it?"

"Sure--I know that. You see," he went on to explain, "it's like this.
Rosie is an awful bad girl in some ways--there's no doubt about that.
But my mother says Rosie isn't as bad as she seems. My mother says
Rosie's mother has never learned how to manage her. She whips Rosie
an awful lot. And the more she whips Rosie, the naughtier she gets.
Rosie says she's going to run away some day, and by George, I bet
she'll do it. She always does what she says she'll do."

"Isn't it dreadful?" Maida said in a frightened tone. "Run away! I
never heard of such a thing. Think of having a mother and then not
getting along with her. Suppose she died sometime, as my mother
did."

"I don't know what I'd do without my mother," Dicky said
thoughtfully. "But then I've got the best mother that ever was. I
wish she didn't have to work so hard. But you wait until I get on my
feet. Then you'll see how I'm going to earn money for her."

When Maida got home that night, Billy Potter sat with Granny in the
living-room. Maida came in so quietly that they took no notice of
her. Granny was talking. Maida could see that the tears were
coursing down the wrinkles in her cheeks.

"And after that, the poor choild ran away to America and I niver
have seen her since. Her father died repenting av his anger aginst
her. But ut was too late. At last, in me old age, Oi came over to
America, hoping Oi cud foind her. But, glory be, Oi had no idea
'twas such a big place! And Oi've hunted and Oi've hunted and Oi've
hunted. But niver a track of her cud Oi foind--me little Annie!"

Billy's face was all screwed up, but it was not with laughter. "Did
you ever speak to Mr. Westabrook about it?"

"Oh, Misther Westabruk done iv'ry t'ing he cud--the foine man that he
is. Adver_tise_ments and _de_tayktives, but wid all his money, he
cud