“I don’t believe that can be so,” said Tess, faintly. “But it’s our duty to entertain her, while she is here.”
“I don’t see why we should. She’s not a nice girl at all,” Dot objected.
“Dot! you know very well Ruth wants us to look out for her,” Tess said, with emphasis. “We can’t get out of it.”
So the younger girl, over-ruled by Tess, followed on. At the foot of the garden, Lillie caught sight of Ruth’s flock of hens. Uncle Rufus had repaired the henhouse and run, and Ruth had bought in the market a dozen hens and a rooster of the white Plymouth Rock breed. Mr. Rooster strutted around the enclosure very proudly with his family. They were all very tame, for the children made pets of them.
“Don’t you ever let them out?” asked Lillie, peering through the wire-screen.
“No. Not now, Ruth says. They would get into the garden,” Tess replied.
“Huh! you could shoo them out again. I had a pet hen at Ypsilanti. I’d rather have hens than dolls, anyway. The hens are alive,” and she tried the gate entering upon the hen-run.
“Oh!” exclaimed Tess. “You mustn’t let them out.”
“Who’s letting them out?” demanded Lillie.
“Well, then, you mustn’t go into the yard.”