ged drive her to a lunatic asylum? or to the mill where the
Little Red Hen--Next!" put in Herbert, as his contribution.

"The little Red Hen being now corn-fed, and the Mill a thing she never
would reach, the Mouse and the Grouse thought best to put an end to
her checkered career and boil her in a pot over a slow fire; because
that's the way to make a fowl who had traveled and endured so much
grow tender and soft-hearted and fit to eat, corn and all, popped or
unpopped--Pass the pan, Alfaretta! while the pot boils and the Little
Red Hen--Next!" continued Littlejohn Smith, with a readiness which was
unexpected; while Molly B. took up the nonsense with the remark that:

"The Little Red Hen has as many lives as a cat. All our
great-great-great-grandmothers have heard about her. She was living
ages and--and eons ago! She was in the Ark with Noah--in my toy Ark,
anyway; and being made of wood she didn't boil tender as had been
hoped; also, all the lovely red she wore came off in the boil
and--what's happening? 'Tother side the ring where Dolly Doodles is
holding Luna with both hands and staring--staring--staring--Oh! My!
What's happening to our own Little Red Hen!"

What, indeed!

CHAPTER XVI

THE FINDING OF THE MONEY

In this instance the Little Red Hen was Luna. As always when possible
she had seated herself by Dorothy, who shared none of that repugnance
which some of the others, especially Helena, felt toward the
unfortunate. She had been cleanly if plainly clothed when she arrived
at Deerhurst, but the changes which had been made in her attire
pleased her by their bright colors and finer quality.

The waif always rebelled when Dinah or Norah sought to dress her in
the gray gown she had originally worn or to put her hair into a snug
knot. She clung to the cardinal-hued frock that Dorothy had given her
and pulled out the pins with which her attendants tried to confine her
white curls. In this respect she was like a spoiled child and she
always carried her point--as spoiled children usually do.

Thus to-night: To the old nurse it had seemed wise that the witless
one should go to her bed, instead of into that gay scene at the barn.
Luna had decided otherwise. Commonly so drowsy and willing to sleep
anywhere and anyhow, she was this night wide awake. Nothing could
persuade her to stay indoors, nothing that is, short of actual force
and, of course, such would never be tried. For there was infinite
pity in the