“No, that is true,” said Mrs. Owen. After all, she had thought of keeping hens herself.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Peggy,” she said. “You can sell Henrietta’s eggs to me, when she begins to lay, at whatever the market price is, and the money can go toward their food, and if there is any left you can have it to spend. That will be a good lesson in arithmetic for us.”
So Peggy and Alice ran over to old Michael’s house, where he was always to be found at his dinner-hour, to tell him the glad news.
Mrs. Farrell came to the door. She was a prosperous, comfortable looking person, with a plump, trig figure and smoothly arranged white hair. Peggy thought of telling her about the geography game, but there was something about her that made her hesitate. She was afraid Mrs. Farrell would think it a crazy game.
“Won’t you come in, you little dears?” said Mrs. Farrell.
Alice looked pleased at being called a “little dear,” but Peggy was all the more sure that Mrs. Farrell would not care for the geography game.
“I just wanted to see Mr. Farrell a minute,” she said.
“He is at dinner. Can’t you give me the message?”
“I don’t think I could,” said Peggy. “It is very important, and it is not easy to remember all of it. We’ll not keep him a minute—truly, we won’t.”
“I guess I can remember the message if you can.”