“It’s done, Charley! it’s done!” she called to them gladly, as they came rushing down the field from their day’s lessons. “Come and see how nice it all looks. When can the fowls come?”
“To-morrow,” answered Charley. “We can bring them back with us to-morrow. We’ve arranged it all with Farmer Johnson, and we’re going to start with ten. You’ll see them arrive to-morrow, Winnie.”
“Oh jolly!” cried Ronald; “you will like them, Winnie, they are such jolly birds. I’d sooner keep guinea-fowls than anything now.”
Winifred was as much pleased and excited as anybody, and quite impatient for the arrival of the new pets.
“I do hope they will come to-morrow, and that it will keep hot!” she said to herself that night. “For it can’t be summer always, and the swallows are gathering so fast—so fast. It must be nearly time for them to go.”
The next day the sun still shone warm and bright, and the thousands of swallows in the meadows seemed as full of life and happiness as though there were no winter cold and frost to drive them away.
“We shall be home early to-day, Winnie,” cried Ronald, putting his head in at the nursery-door last thing. “Mr. Arnold has to go to town, and we shall get off early. You’ll be down in the field to see the guinea-fowls come!”
“Oh yes!” cried Winnie, eagerly. “I do so want to see them. I hope they will like their new home.”
Winifred waited eagerly for the appointed time to come, and was down at the new house in the field a good half-hour too soon. The boys, however, were punctual to their time, and soon the sound of wheels being driven over the grass became distinctly audible.
Farmer Johnson’s light spring-cart was bringing its burden down to the appointed place; and with a good deal of clucking and calling and screaming, the pretty, softly-marked birds were transferred from the cart to their new home.