at is it? And why are the girls crying? They wouldn't tell me."

"I've killed a lot of hens for them, playing hare and hound. That's the
very last time I will ever be hare, Charity Greenfield! Help me undress
these chickens. We'll have some for supper, and the rest we'll peddle to
the town folks."

"Oh, Peace, I can't pull feathers! It makes me shiver every time a bunch
comes out in my hands."

"You will have to. You don't expect me to pick them all, do you? I guess
the girls never thought of selling the hens, and I can't ask them to
help now. We will get the ax and chop off their heads and then hang them
in the crab-apple tree while we strip them. You really must help,
Cherry. Gail says they pick better while they are warm."

She hunted up the ax, and one by one hacked off poor biddies' heads; but
when it came to the picking process, they found it was slow work for
small, inexperienced fingers, and gave up in despair when the third nude
body lay in the grass at their feet.

"It is almost night, Peace, and we've picked three. What shall we do?
'Twill take us hours to finish that whole bunch."

"We'll sell them for as much as we can get, and see if the butcher won't
take the rest with the feathers on. We can keep two or three for
ourselves. Where is Allee's cart?"

All that remained of the poison victims were loaded into the small
wagon, and their strange pilgrimage through the village streets began.
The picked fowls were readily disposed of, and one neighbor bought the
largest of the feathered birds, but no one else wanted to bother with
them, and it was only after much persuasion that the butcher consented
to take six, at the fancy price of twenty-five cents each.

"Well, that is better than nothing, though he wouldn't sell me one for
that little last Christmas," sighed Peace, much disappointed at the
result of their peddling. "Three dollars and fifty cents will buy quite
a few chickens, and chickens make hens if you give them time. What do
you s'pose Gail will say when we give her the money?"

They were not long in finding out. The two red-eyed girls were busy in
the kitchen when the children returned with the unsold hens in the
wagon; and with fear and trembling, Peace laid the coins on the table,
saying humbly, "Mrs. Munson took one, and Mrs. Bainbridge, and Mrs.
Edwards and Mrs. Lacy, and the butcher bought six. That's all the hens
we could sell. We left three here for supper and--"

"Peace Greenfield!"