Speckle had made up her mind to stay. So she flew
across to another rafter, and lit on Grannie Malone's black coat that
she wore to Mass on Sundays. She thought it a pleasant warm place and
sat down again.

"Bad luck to you for an ill-favoured old thief!" screamed Grannie. "Get
off my Sunday cloak with your muddy feet! It's ruined you'll have me
entirely!"

She shook the cloak. Then old Speckle, squawking all the way, flew over
to Grannie's bed! She ran the whole length of it. She left a little
path clear across the patchwork quilt. Larry stood in one corner of the
room waving his arms. Eileen was flapping her apron in another, while
Grannie Malone chased old Speckle with the broom. At last, with a final
squawk, she flew out of the door, and ran round to the shelter where the
other hens were, and went in as if she thought home was the best place
for a hen after all. Larry shut her in.

As soon as the hen was out of the house, Eileen screamed, "I smell
something burning!"

"'Tis the cakeen," cried Grannie.

She and Eileen flew to the fireplace. Eileen got there first. She
knocked the cover off the little kettle with the tongs, and out flew a
cloud of smoke.

"Och, murder! 'Tis destroyed entirely!" poor Grannie groaned.

"I'll turn it quick," said Eileen.

She was in such a hurry she didn't wait for a fork or stick or anything!
She took right hold of the little cakeen, and lifted it out of the
kettle with her hand!

The little cake was hot! "Ow! Ow!" shrieked Eileen, and she dropped it
right into the ashes! Then she danced up and down and sucked her
fingers.

"The Saints help us! The cakeen is bewitched," wailed poor Grannie.
She picked it up, and tossed it from one hand to the other, while she
blew off the ashes.

Then she dropped it, burned side up, into the kettle once more, clapped
on the cover, and set it where it would cook more slowly.

When that was done, she looked at Eileen's fingers. "It's not so bad at
all, mavourneen, praise be to God," she said. "Sure, I thought I had
you killed entirely, the way you screamed!"

"Eileen is always burning herself," said Larry. "Mother says 'tis only
when she's burned up altogether that she'll learn to keep out of the
fire at all!"

"'Twas all the fault of that disgraceful old hen," Grannie Malone said.
"Sure, I'll have to be putting manners on her! She's no notion of
behaviour at all, at all. Reach the sugar bowl, Larry, avic, and sit