it best to go away. He always welcomed the
gardener and the servants, and especially his master, whenever they came
to see him; so that every one about the place would give a pat or a word
to the friendly dog whenever they passed that way.

"Now let us go and see the fowls," said Mary.

On the right hand side of the drive up to the house was a wide strip of
grass planted with shrubs. Here, standing back, were some wire
enclosures inside of which were some choice broods of chickens.

The girls could have stopped here "for hours," they said, watching the
little chickens, that looked like balls of white or yellow or gray down
running about or hiding under their mothers' wings.

However, most of the fowls were in the orchard, close by which was the
hen-house. Fancy what a pretty sight that orchard was this sunshiny
spring morning! How alive with different sorts of fowls running hither
and thither--black, and gray, and speckled; old motherly hens, and pert,
lively young ones; while the cocks strutted about and crowed one against
another. Then a hen would come out of the hen-house, where the nests
were, telling all the world, by her loud, proud cackling, that she had
laid an egg. What noise there was then, for cocks and hens would all
join in chorus. Some of the hens seemed to get together to have a quiet
chat, as if they were talking over their family affairs; about which
they did not always seem to agree, if you might judge by their noise.

By this time grandpapa had finished reading his newspaper and came to
the children. He took them to the cow-house to see the new calf, and he
lifted Annie up to let her stroke it; but the mother looked so fierce
that they did not care to stay long there. Then they went into the yard
to see the pigs. The little pigs looked so funny running about the
large, clean sty, as if they loved the bright sunshine and liked to play
about in it. But when they fed they would put their feet in the trough,
and this was not very mannerly of them.

By the time the children had paid a visit to all the old places they
were getting rather tired, and then they went back to the house.

II.

_LISTENING IN THE WOODS._

"I hear the blackbird telling
His love-tale to his mate;
And the merry skylark swelling
The choir at 'heaven's gate.'
The cuckoo away in the thicket
Is giving his two old notes;
And the pet doves hung by the wicket
Are talking with ruffled throats.
The honey-bee hums as