"Just a few scratches—on my left elbow and my shins. But it was a close call, I can tell you."
"Where was it?" asked Bess.
"Out in Connecticut. I went there to visit a distant relative of my dad. It was a little side line and our train ran into a freight. We knocked open a car full of chickens and what do you think? Those chickens scattered far and wide. I'll bet many a family is having chicken dinner on the sly this week!"
"Then nobody was hurt?"
"Oh, yes, several were more or less bruised and one man had an arm broken. But everybody was thankful, for they said it might have been much worse. But it certainly was funny to see those chickens scattering in every direction over the snow-covered fields," and Rhoda laughed at the recollection.
"Gee, if a fellow had been there with a gun he might have had some hunting," cried Walter.
"Oh, Walter, you wouldn't hunt chickens with a gun, would you?" asked Nan, reproachfully.
"Don't know as I would," was the quick reply.
"Oh, but now we are together, won't we have lovely times," cried Bess.