ny more of it," replied
Oscar.

"Jerry, have the hens been attended to?" inquired Mrs. Preston, as the
boys were about starting from home.

"I don't know--I have n't fed them," replied Jerry.

"You ought to know whether they are seen to or not; it's your business
to take care of them," said his mother. "Don't you go off this morning
till you have fed them. You ought to have done it an hour ago."

The care of the fowls had been committed to Jerry, but he did not feel
much interest in them, and needed to be reminded of his duty pretty
often. His negligence had been more marked than ever since Oscar's
arrival, and more than once the hens had been without food and water
nearly a whole day because he forgot to attend to them. Jerry now went
back, in obedience to his mother, and gave the fowls their usual
allowance of corn, and a vessel of fresh water. He also looked into
the nests to see if there were any new-laid eggs; and he was not a
little surprised to find in one of them a small billet, neatly folded
up, and addressed, "_To Master Jerry_." He looked at it a moment, and
tried to imagine what it could be; then he opened it, and read the
following, which was neatly written with a pencil:

"THE HENROOST, June 12th.

"MASTER JERRY:"

"I have determined to write you a few words in behalf of my dear
suffering family. The sun is scorching hot, and yet we have not got a
drop of water to save us from parching up. My poor biddies have been
walking back and forth all day, panting for water, and calling for it
as plainly as they could speak; but all in vain. We have received our
food at very irregular times, too, and sometimes we have had to keep
fast nearly all day. If I were the only sufferer, I would say nothing
about it; but I cannot bear to see my poor flock dying by inches in
this way. Do take pity on us, and see that we have plenty of corn and
water hereafter. Some of my family, who pride themselves on being good
layers, complain that since you have kept us shut up in such narrow
quarters they cannot find anything to make their egg-shells of. Now,
if you would give us some old burnt bones, pounded up fine, or a little
lime, once in awhile, I do not think you would lose anything by it.
And as you will not let us go out to scratch for ourselves, what is the
reason that you cannot dig us a few worms occasionally? It would be a
great treat to us. I hope you will heed my suggestions. If you do
not, I can