"He was disagreeable," said Marjorie, "and acted as if I had no right to tell him of his mistake."
"But is he going to change the pickets?"
"No," said Marjorie, "he has to have them that way to keep some rabbits inside. I told him it didn't look well, anyway."
"Of course that helped some," said the Dream, "since he must have them so, whether they look well or not."
"Yes," said Marjorie. "See, he has come out into the road to look at them. I guess what I said sort of worried him. I don't think those pickets are a good shape, either. I like them better where they are cut sort of curly on top, instead of just plain points."
"Yes," said the Dream. "And did you tell him about that too?"
"No," said Marjorie, "I didn't think about it then; but—say—where do you suppose those rabbits are now? You don't think that they are shut up in that little dark shed over there, do you? Wouldn't that be dreadful? There, those people heard what I said, and they are wondering too. See them look,—and I suppose that they will tell others about it. Isn't it too bad? And he's such a nice appearing boy too. I'm sure he doesn't mean to be cruel. I think that some one ought to speak to him. Poor little things, shut up in the dark on a beautiful day like this! It ought not to be allowed. I'm going to talk to him!" and Marjorie ran across the road again.
The boy glanced up as she approached; but waited for her to speak. Marjorie looked him straight in the eye. "Where are your rabbits?" she asked, severely.
"In the shed," he replied, motioning with his head in the direction of the building she had noticed.
"What!" she exclaimed. "A lot of lovely white rabbits shut up in that little dark shed! Oh, how can you be so unkind?"