“Let’s count up all the bad luck we’ve had this year,” said Eileen.
“Oh, yes, let’s count,” they all cried excitedly, and instantly they sat erect, all except Baby, who still solemnly swung one leg and then the other, and hung tenaciously on to the last piece of crust.
“Go on, Eileen. Speak up.”
“First the two cows died, and one of the calves, and didn’t we have trouble with the other one?” she said with a sigh.
“And then the big horse died,” chimed in another.
“So it did, and then——”
“Old Star’s foal died,” said Mollie.
“So it did,” cried Eileen. “Old Star’s beautiful foal died.”
“Me want Tar’s foal,” cried Baby.
“Oh, stop that noise, Baby! You never let us have a nice quiet talk,” said Eileen. “What next?”