hey
were trying to do. He was delighted and surprised to see the seven
rescued pigs.

"Why, Chicken Little, I didn't really suppose you were in earnest
or----" Dr. Morton stopped suddenly, he had just taken a good look at
his only daughter--the look was effective. He threw back his head and
roared.

"Oh, if you could just see yourself, Jane!"

This was adding insult to injury and Chicken Little burst into tears.
"You can just hunt your old pigs yourself--I don't think it's nice of
you to laugh when I tried so hard!"

"Come, come, I beg your pardon, but you are enough to make an owl laugh,
Humbug. It was fine of you to try to rescue the pigs. You girls deserve
a great deal of credit, for it is a disagreeable, muddy job. I guess
I'll have to make it up to you. I'll tell you what I'll do. You may have
this litter for your very own, and we'll send the little girls their
share over the cost of keeping, when the pigs are sold. How will that
do?"

Chicken Little was not in the mood to be easily appeased.

"Yes, but you say things are mine till you want to sell them, and then I
never see the money."

This was touching a sore point. The Doctor had been a little remiss on
the subject of the children's ownership of their pets. He was nettled by
this accusation.

"My dear, when I say a thing I mean it. I was about to add, though, that
if I give you the entire proceeds of the pigs I shall expect you to
attend to feeding them until they are big enough to be turned in with
the drove."

"I thought the mother fed them."

"Well, the mother pig has to be fed."

"Do you really, truly, mean it, Father?"

"Truly."

Chicken Little forgot the late unpleasantness. "Oh, goody, let's call
Katy back and tell her!"

Katy was not so far away as might have been anticipated. Her wrath was
dissipating also.

Dr. Morton lingered to help them a few moments and to satisfy himself
that they could not do themselves any damage that a bath and the wash
tub could not repair, then left them once more to their own resources.

By four o'clock they had all but one of the missing pigs safely stowed
in the coop. They were very tired and hot, and decided to save the joy
of hunting for the last pig for Ernest and Sherm in the evening.

It was well they did. The wee stray would have led them a chase. He had
found his way almost to the creek, and it took the boys a good hour of
wading and beating the swamp grass to discover him.

Just as Chicke