“I think it is very important,” said Peggy. “And I guess you thought so when you were a little girl, mother.”
“You are right, Peggy, I did. But now the question is, will you children try to make your grandmother happy?”
“I’ll try,” said Peggy; “but I just can’t stand it if she doesn’t care about my dear Rhode Island Reds.”
But her grandmother did grow to appreciate them, to Peggy’s great surprise. One morning she went out with Peggy when she fed the chickens. It was a sunny morning, with a soft blue sky and fleecy clouds.
“To think of my being here all these days and not having seen your hens,” said Mrs. Owen.
“I thought, if you waited until you wanted to see them, it would be more of a treat,” said Peggy.
“Who put that idea into your head, your mother?”
“No, I don’t want people to see them unless it is a treat.”
Peggy’s grandmother looked at the little girl’s eager, upturned face.
“Do you like them so much, Peggy?” she asked.