Peggy herself was hardly more composed, and her excitement was contagious. All plans for the remainder of the afternoon were instantly forgotten till Peggy’s chickens should be ushered from their egg-shell prison-houses into the world of sunshine. Peggy had fortified herself against this hour by asking advice of Mrs. Cole and Joe, and all the other experts in the neighborhood, but now she realized the appalling gulf between theory and practise. The demeanor of the yellow hen convinced her that everything was going wrong, and she felt pathetically unequal to doing ever so little toward making it come right.
Yet, in spite of Peggy’s forebodings, one chicken after another was rescued from beneath the wings of the perturbed foster-mother, and placed in a carefully prepared basket set behind the kitchen stove. The girls, eager for a peep at the new arrivals, failed to wax enthusiastic after their curiosity had been satisfied. Amy voiced the general disappointment when she said regretfully, “I hadn’t an idea they looked like that to start with. I thought they’d be fluffy and cute, like the chickens on Easter cards.” Peggy, who had herself found the appearance of the wobbly, shrill-voiced mites a distinct shock, said bravely that they would undoubtedly be prettier when they were older.
After six chickens had been placed in the basket, silence reigned in the nest. The yellow hen settled down on her remaining eggs, emitting, at intervals, an agitated cluck. Peggy vibrated between the woodshed and the covered basket behind the stove, like an erratic pendulum. The other girls, weary at last of waiting for more chickens, trooped to the living-room, and Graham, who like many young gentlemen of twenty, could on occasion conduct himself like a boy half that age, sought to create a diversion by tickling his sister.
Ruth was agonizingly sensitive to this form of torture. A forefinger extended with a threatening waggle was sufficient to rob her of every vestige of self-control, while the play of her brother’s fingers over her ribs reduced her instantly to grovelling submission. To do Graham justice, he was quite unable to appreciate the fact that this pastime cost Ruth real suffering. He would have put his hand into the fire before he would have struck his sister, yet he frequently subjected her to misery compared to which a blow would have been welcome.
With a sudden freakish reversion to the prankishness of a growing boy, Graham pointed his finger at Ruth, who instantly screamed. The girls looking on, laughed, and there was some excuse for their amusement. The spectacle of the sensible Ruth, shrinking and shrieking over nothing more alarming than an agitated forefinger, was ridiculous enough to be funny. Graham, encouraged by the laughter, took a step toward his sister who instantly burst into incoherent appeals and protests.
“Oh, Graham, please, Graham! Oh, dear! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Hobo, lying on the porch outside, leaped to his feet. Hobo keenly felt the responsibility of the family he had adopted. He subjected all new arrivals to a careful scrutiny which marked him sufficiently as the guardian of the household. But never before in his three weeks of domesticity, had the need for his services seemed as urgent as now.
Barking excitedly, Hobo ran to the nearest window, raised himself on his hind-legs, his forepaws resting on the outer sill, and looked in. The scene which met his eyes confirmed his worst suspicions. Ruth, standing in the middle of the room, cowered and pleaded, while the teasing brother prolonged the fun by touching her lightly now and then, finding her writhing protests eminently diverting.
Outside, Hobo barked his warning. The girls turned to the window and the laughter broke out afresh. The dog’s eyes shone with a bluish light, like burnished steel. The hair on his neck bristled threateningly. As Graham looked up, Hobo’s upper lip drew back in a menacing fashion, showing his teeth.
“That dog would be an ugly customer in a fight,” remarked Graham casually, not averse to teasing a barking dog as well as a screaming girl. He caught Ruth by the arm as she edged away, and tickled her again. Ruth’s responsive shriek was ear-splitting.