without waiting for leave
he gave a full account of the loss of Susan's guinea-fowl, of Rose's
visit to Barbara, and of Barbara's greedy and cruel conduct.

Barbara denied all that Philip said, and told quite another tale. When
she could find no more to say she blushed deeply, for she saw that her
story was not believed. One might have thought she was covered with
shame, had it not been that the moment Philip was out of sight, she
exclaimed, "I am sure I wish I had never seen this wretched
guinea-hen! It is all Susan's fault for letting it stray into our
garden."

Barbara was too angry to notice that she was admitting the truth of
Philip's story.

"Perhaps," said Miss Somers, "Susan will be more careful now that she
has had so hard a lesson. Shall we see? Philip will, I am sure, carry
the guinea-hen back to her, if we wish it."

"If you please, ma'am," said Barbara sulkily.

So the guinea-hen was given to Philip, who set off with joy and was
soon in sight of Farmer Price's cottage.

IX

A SURPRISE FOR SUSAN

When Philip came to the door he stopped suddenly, for the idea struck
him that it would give Rose great pleasure to carry the guinea-fowl to
Susan. So he ran into the village.

All the children who had given up their Mayday money to Susan were
playing on the green. They were delighted to see the guinea-hen once
more. Philip took his pipe and tabor and they all marched together
towards the whitewashed cottage.

As they passed the butcher's house, his boy came out. They told him
where they were going.

"Let me come with you, let me come with you," he said. "But wait one
moment, for my father has something to say to you," and he darted into
the house. The children waited. In a few moments they heard the
bleating of a lamb, and soon they saw it being gently led by the
butcher from the paddock.

"It is Daisy!" exclaimed Rose.

"It is Daisy!" they all shouted with joy, "Susan's lamb! Susan's
lamb!"

"Well, for my part," said the good butcher, as soon as he could be
heard, "for my part I would not be so cruel as Attorney Case for the
whole world. It's true the lamb did not know what was before it, but
poor Susan did, and to wring her gentle heart was what I call cruel.
But at any rate, here it is, safe and sound now. I'd have taken it to
her sooner, but was off early this morning to the fair, and am but
just come back. Daisy, though, was as well off in my paddock as in the
field by the water-si