But here she was again "out of a job," as the Virginian said.

"She's raised them puppies for that triflin' setter, and now she'll
be huntin' around for something else useful to do that ain't in her
business."

Now there were other broods of chickens to arrive in the hen-house, and
I did not desire any more bantam and turkey performances. So, to avoid
confusion, I played a trick upon Em'ly. I went down to Sunk Creek and
fetched some smooth, oval stones. She was quite satisfied with these,
and passed a quiet day with them in a box. This was not fair, the
Virginian asserted.

"You ain't going to jus' leave her fooled that a-way?"

I did not see why not.

"Why, she raised them puppies all right. Ain't she showed she knows how
to be a mother anyways? Em'ly ain't going to get her time took up for
nothing while I'm round hyeh," said the cowpuncher.

He laid a gentle hold of Em'ly and tossed her to the ground. She, of
course, rushed out among the corrals in a great state of nerves.

"I don't see what good you do meddling," I protested.

To this he deigned no reply, but removed the unresponsive stones from
the straw.

"Why, if they ain't right warm!" he exclaimed plaintively. "The poor,
deluded son-of-a-gun!" And with this unusual description of a lady, he
sent the stones sailing like a line of birds. "I'm regular getting stuck
on Em'ly," continued the Virginian. "Yu' needn't to laugh. Don't yu' see
she's got sort o' human feelin's and desires? I always knowed hawsses
was like people, and my collie, of course. It is kind of foolish, I
expect, but that hen's goin' to have a real aigg di-rectly, right now,
to set on." With this he removed one from beneath another hen. "We'll
have Em'ly raise this hyeh," said he, "so she can put in her time
profitable."

It was not accomplished at once; for Em'ly, singularly enough, would
not consent to stay in the box whence she had been routed. At length we
found another retreat for her, and in these new surroundings, with a
new piece of work for her to do, Em'ly sat on the one egg which the
Virginian had so carefully provided for her.

Thus, as in all genuine tragedies, was the stroke of Fate wrought by
chance and the best intentions.

Em'ly began sitting on Friday afternoon near sundown. Early next morning
my sleep was gradually dispersed by a sound unearthly and continuous.
Now it dwindled, receding to a distance; again it came near, took a
turn, drifted to the other side of t