Eleanor began to help Mary Frances, and Billy went to the lettuce bed.
“Well, of all things!” He shouted so loud both the girls jumped.
“What in the world’s the matter?” Mary Frances dropped the radishes she had in her hand.
“Matter!” roared Billy. “Matter! That old rooster of yours has eaten the hearts of the lettuce! That’s all! Darn him!”
“Oh, Billy, don’t use such language!” cried Mary Frances. “Maybe he didn’t do it. Maybe it was a cutworm or a sparrow, or—or—”
“Look here!” demanded Billy. “Who took that bite?” pointing to a hole in the lettuce just the size of Feather Flop’s beak.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary Frances, “I’m afraid it was Feather Flop! Oh, how could he have done such a thing!”
“That’s not the only one!” went on Billy, examining further. “Every one of these big heads has just such a bite taken out!”
“What shall we do!” exclaimed Eleanor. “What a disappointment!”
“I’m ready to cry!” said Mary Frances. “I wonder if any of it is fit to use!”