shrieked the horrified sisters in unison. "Did you
sell those poisoned hens? You march straight upstairs to bed--and
Cherry, too!" Then Gail flew one way and Faith the other, to collect the
birds before the buyers had a chance to dish up the delicacy to adored
families.

When they had seen the last fowl safely disposed of, and were home once
more, Gail said despairingly, "I don't know what in the world to do with
that child!"

"She needs a good, sound thrashing," answered Faith sharply. "She gets
into more mischief in a day than a monkey would in a month."

"She doesn't mean to," pleaded Gail. "Mother never believed in whipping.
If it were mischief for mischief's sake, I could punish her, but her
intentions are good--"

"Good intentions don't amount to much in her case. A good trouncing
might make her think a little more."

"I _can't_ whip her, Faith, but I'll go up and lecture her good. I
believe that will be more effective than harshness."

So the perplexed mother-sister mounted the stairs to the chamber above,
from which sounded a low murmur of voices, and she paused in the hallway
to assemble her thoughts, when Peace's words, evidently in supplication,
floated out through the open door: "And, O Lord, don't blame Gail for
getting mad. It's the first time I can remember. She is usu'ly very
good. S'posing she was a stepmother, like lame Jennie Munn's, wouldn't
we have a time living with her, though? And I am truly sorry about the
hens. Hope says we can't get many eggs now, 'cause half of the flock is
gone, and if we keep all our customers we will have to do without eggs
here at home. I don't mind that at all myself, 'cause I've eaten eggs
and eggs till it makes me sick to hunt them now; but what will Faith do
for her cakes? That's what is worrying me. It was so we could buy more
live hens that Cherry and me sold the dead ones. We didn't know they
would make people sick, and p'r'aps kill them, too. I am sorry the money
had to go back and that the hens are just wasted now, but I 'xpect
they'll make an elegant funeral tomorrow. So forgive Gail and keep her
from getting mad any more, and forgive me and keep me from being bad any
more, and make us 'happy children in a happy home.' Amen."

Softly, silently, Gail stole down the stairs again, with her lecture
unsaid.

CHAPTER XII

THE RASPBERRY PATCH

One hot, dusty afternoon in midsummer Faith trudged wearily up the road
from the village, climbed the step