"Chicken pie," said Mrs. March, in a very comical, earnest tone.
"Chicken pie!" shouted Rob. "Hurrah! hurrah!" and both he and Nelly ran toward the house as hard as they could go.
"There is a wish-bone drying for you on the mantelpiece," called out Mr. March.
"They'll both wish for a silver mine, I expect," laughed Mrs. March, as she and her husband walked slowly along. "What a queer notion that was to come into such children's heads!"
"I don't know," said Mr. March, reflectively; "I think it's a very natural notion to come into anybody's head. I'd like a silver mine myself, very much."
"We mightn't be any happier if we had one, nor half so happy," replied Mrs. March. "I'd rather have you well, and the children well, than have all the silver mines in Colorado."
"If you had to choose between the two things, I dare say," answered Mr. March; "but I suppose a person might have good health and a silver mine besides. How would that do?"
"Well, I'll make sure of the health first," said Mrs. March, laughing. "I'm not in so much hurry for the silver mine."
After Rob and Nelly had eaten up all the chicken pie which had been saved for them, they took down the wish-bone from the mantelpiece, and prepared to "wish."
"It's so dry, it'll break splendidly," said Rob. "I know what I'm going to wish for."