wn their wings so that they can't flap."

They decided to take the short cut to the mill, through two meadows,
across a small stream, and over a stile that led them direct into the
Show ground. Gwen and Winnie got on very well with Dick and the boys
to open gates: it was rather perilous work crossing the stream on a
single plank, but they accomplished that in safety, and Winnie, with
infinite caution, climbed over the stile into the mill meadow, still
hugging her burden. Gwen essayed to follow with equal skill, but the
stile was a very steep and awkward one, and she needed both hands to
hold the drake. She was stepping carefully over the top bar when
somehow her foot caught and she stumbled; she put out one hand to
save herself, and the cunning drake, quick to seize his opportunity,
wriggled himself free and made a dash for liberty.

Off he went over the Show ground, flapping and fluttering like a white
whirlwind and quacking his loudest, and the Gascoyne family, popping
down hampers and baskets, followed hard behind; Winnie, much
encumbered by her duck, shouting frantic directions. It was Dick who
caught the runaway, and pinioned him cleverly until Gwen secured him,
then with much triumph they shut him up with his agitated mate in the
wire pen marked "No. 207".

"I thought we'd lost him," panted Winnie. "Oh, dear! It's no joke
bringing one's beasties to a show. I'm glad we decided not to exhibit
the pigs! Martin, you're not to open that hamper. We shall be having
the chickens escaping next! Stop him, Stumps! I feel like the 'Old
Woman who lived in a Shoe'. Gwen, you take charge of the cockerels
while I find where the Black Minorcas have to go to."

The public was not allowed in the field while the judging was in
process; so until twelve o'clock the Gascoynes were obliged to wait
with what patience they could muster. As soon as the gates were opened
they trooped into the Show.

"Hurrah! First Prize for White Aylesburys!" exclaimed Winnie
ecstatically, gazing with rapture at the large pink card that
decorated No. 207 pen. "It was worth washing them. The darlings! How
nice they look!"

"And the chickens have got a third!" yelled the boys, who had taken a
hasty round of the exhibits.

"The eggs haven't won anything, but the cockerels have 'commended'.
Mrs. Hodges' have got the first."

"We haven't done badly," said Winnie, "considering I can't devote all
my time to it like the farmers' wives. Gwen, you've helped