onto
the counter before the astonished proprietor, who was making ready to
close his shop for the day. "A quarter's worth of chicken, Mr. Jones,"
she panted. "I was afraid you would be gone before we could collect from
the Judge."

"Sorry, Peace," answered the astonished man, "but I haven't any chickens
as small as that."

"Haven't you a cheap old hen?" she faltered, almost too disappointed to
speak.

"No, I am afraid not."

"And you can't sell me a _piece_ of chicken?"

"No, we never do that, either."

"Oh, dear," sighed Allee. "We swep' that walk all for nothing!"

But Peace's bright eyes had caught sight of a tall, wooden bucket on the
counter, and now she demanded, "Is that oysters?"

"Yes, jimdandies."

"That's next best to chicken. I'll take a quarter's worth of them. We
will have a Thanksgiving after all, Allee."

Bearing the precious burden carefully in her arms, Peace was hurrying
down the street toward home, followed by the happy Allee trailing the
two old brooms, when they were halted by an excited, boyish voice,
screaming lustily, "Peace, oh Peace! Wait a minute! I've got something
for you."

She stopped short in the snow and waited impatiently for the boy to
overtake her, more interested in her bucket of oysters than in the
prospect of a gift from him; but as he drew near, she saw he carried two
white, furry bundles, and her eyes grew bright with anticipation.

"Surely not your bunnies, Bryan?" she gasped.

"Yep! We are going to move back to the city on Monday, and papa said I
must leave these here. They will starve with no one to take care of
them, and you always thought they were so pretty, I decided to give them
to you--that is, if you want them."

"Want them? Oh, Bryan, they are the cutest things! I like pets and never
have had any all of my very own, 'cept the chicken Mr. Hardman stole.
Give one to Allee, and I will carry the other. Tuck your broom under
your arm, Allee, and give me mine. There! I'm awful glad you brought
them to us, Bryan. We will take real good care of them."

Once more the sisters trudged on their way, happily excited and eager to
show their new possessions to the family at home.

"Gobble, gobble, gobble!"

Allee screamed, dropped her broom and almost let go of the little white
rabbit in her fear. "Oh, Peace, he's after us again and we can't run!"

"Maybe he won't touch us if we don't look at him," began the older
sister; but the old gobbler, with ruffled fe