and altogether things looked rosy--from Peggy's point
of view.

I replied by return of post that she was really trying to ruin a neutral
Denmark, and that to compete with the hated foe she must induce
Evangeline, Clara & Co. to turn their attention to laying sausages, the
brass collars of electric-light bulbs, toys and small hardware; but, so
as not to discourage her, I added that the chickens would make splendid
table-decorations later on, and would keep down Williamson's absurd
bills for meat.

I came home yesterday; and after tea Peggy presented me with a sheet of
paper covered with figures--a set of multiplication sums in fact. There
was a column for each of the hens and their possible offsprings, and the
grand total, expressed in terms of chickens, was stupendous.

"What," she said, "is a chicken worth when it's ready to cook?"

"It depends," I said, "whether you are buying or selling it."

"Selling," she said.

"Oh; say 2_s._ 6_d._"

"Then to be on the safe side," she said, "we'll call it 2_s._ That
makes twice 1,121 shillings. How much is that?"

I found a stump of pencil, and an empty corner of _The History of the
War_, and worked it out. "L112 2_s._ 0_d._," I said at last.

"Not so bad, Daddy, in twelve months."

"Marvellous!" I said; "colossal! But you haven't allowed for the
chickens we shall eat."

"No," she said, "but we shall save 2_s._ on each one we eat, so it's the
same thing in the end."

I admitted the plausibility of this calculation.

"But," I said, "you're not allowing for deaths and bad eggs."

"Oh yes, I am," she said; "I've only allowed half the eggs to become
chickens."

"You'd never make a company promoter," I said.

"I'm going to be a hospital nurse, thank you, Daddy," she said with her
nose in the air. "Do come and see Evangeline's family."

So we strolled into the garden and down to the poultry run, taking the
multiplication sums with us.

Evangeline, the optimist, was busy scratching up the more or less kindly
fruits of the earth for her family and didn't make the slightest sign of
recognition, though I coughed twice.

"She's much too busy," said Peggy, "to notice that you've come home.
Aren't they darlings?"

"They're certainly a healthy-looking lot. Two of them I recognise as
Clara's contribution. Doesn't she mind?"

"I don't think so," said Peggy; "she's busy too. She's been sitting now
for nearly a fortnight, and Maud Eliza's on eggs as well."

"I hope none