rahmas, or Cochins, or Leghorns, probably, and they cost more;
but, you see, when they begin to lay, there comes my money right back to
me."

"When they do," said Edith, sceptically.

"Edith, don't be so mean!" cried Cynthia. "Jack wants to begin to make
money, and I think he's right. I'm going to help him all I can, and we
want you to be on our side to help talk over papa. He is always telling
Jack that he'll soon have to begin to work, and now here's a chance."

"Papa wants Jack to make some money to help support us when he is old
enough, but he wants him to finish his education first, of course. And I
am sure he doesn't want him to lay out a lot of money, as he would have
to do in raising hens."

"That's just like a girl," said Jack, scornfully. "Don't you know that
there's always a lot of risk in anything you undertake, and you've got
to take the chances? There are very few things you don't have to put
money into."

"Of course, for a grown man. But a boy of your age ought to work for a
salary, or something of that sort--not go investing."

Cynthia stirred uneasily. She knew this was just the wrong thing to say
to Jack. Unfortunately, Edith was so apt to say the wrong thing.

Jack sprang to his feet. "There's no use arguing with girls. I may be a
'boy of my age,' but I've got some sense, and I know there's money in
this. I'm not going to say another word about it to anybody until father
comes home, and I can talk it over with him."

And Jack walked off around the corner of the house, whistling to Ben and
Chester, the two big setters, to follow him, which they did with joyful
alacrity.

"There!" exclaimed Cynthia, "now he's gone off mad. I don't see why you
said that, Edith."

"Said what? I'm sure it is true. The idea of a boy of his age--"

"There you go again. Jack may be young, but he is trying awfully hard to
help papa, and you needn't go twitting him about his age."

"I'm sure I never meant to twit him," said Edith; "and I think he's
awfully touchy. But it is half past four, Cynthia, and time to go meet
papa. Won't you be sure to brush your hair and put on a fresh neck-tie
or something? You do look so untidy. That skirt is all frayed out around
the bottom."

"Oh, bother my hair and my neck-tie, and everything else!" cried
Cynthia, though with perfect good-nature. "Edith, you make such a fuss!
Shall I go meet papa?"

"No, I'll go; but I wish you would order the horse. Now, Cynthia, don't
forget y