Then away the girls ran. Margaret led them to the hen-house, so eager was she to be sure that the fences were coyote-proof. They were indeed, for the wire fence extended so far underground that none of the desert creatures would take the time to burrow beneath it so near a residence of the enemy man. Too there was a roof of wire netting over the small yard, which protected the feathered brood from any of the vulturous birds of prey.

“That certainly is improvement number one,” Virginia cried in delight. “Many a time I have been heart-broken entirely because some of my little new chicks have been carried away by pirate birds.” They were leaving, when Megsy caught Virg’s arm as she squealed gleefully, “I do believe that I’ve discovered the surprise. Hark! Don’t you hear a faint peeping somewhere?”

Virginia listened and then, noting that their escort’s grin was broadening, if that were possible, she exclaimed, “Oh Uncle Tex, are there really some baby chicks? Where are they? Please show them to us?”

The chicken yard gate was opened and the old man led them to the sunny side of the hen house where, from between the bars of a barrel coop, the yellow head of an anxious mother protruded as she clucked a warning to fifteen balls of fluff that ran to her, tumbling on the way and piping their fright.

“Oh, the dear little things! Please let them stay a moment, Biddy Mother,” Margaret implored. “I want to hold just one.”

The one that was lifted ever so tenderly, begged so pitifully to be set free, that Megsy put it down close to the coop and smiled to watch it scud for the shelter of its mother’s wings.

“Lucky little puff-ball!” Betsy said with a note of sadness in her usually merry voice. “What wouldn’t I give to have a mother to run to.” Uncle Tex, who had remained outside, happened to call just then. “Better be hurryin’, Miss Virginia dearie. Pears like its mos’ lunch time as yo-all names it.”

Virginia glanced at her wrist watch. “True enough,” she exclaimed “and now that I am home, Uncle Tex, you are to have a long vacation from the kitchen. We girls will do all the cooking and brewing and mopping and scrubbing and—” but the old man, shaking his head, interrupted—

“Wall, I reckon yo-all won’t have time to do much playin’ if yer scheming that-a-way.”

All unconsciously Virginia sighed. How she did wish that the faithful Chinaman, who had 

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