“It isn’t chicken pox,” said Mrs. Bunker, trying not to laugh. “Though I think it has something to do with chickens—and eggs. You say Margy is all yellow and white, Mun Bun?” she asked.
“Yes’m, but the yellow shows most. It’s all over her face and her dress——”
“The poor thing!” murmured Violet.
“I’ll go and help her,” offered Laddie, not stopping to make a riddle this time, though he said later that he had one about a chicken and an egg if he could only think of it.
“She’s right around here—under the barn,” went on Mun Bun, leading the way from the hen-house.
“Under the barn?” asked Mrs. Bunker. “Is she caught fast there?”
“No, Mother,” replied Mun Bun. “She’s just all whites and yellows. She crawled under the barn to get some eggs, and when she came out with ’em in her dress, why—now—she—she slipped and she fell down and—and—the eggs all busted and——”
“There she is now!” interrupted Violet, as they came within sight of the unfortunate Margy. Well might Violet murmur: “Poor dear!”
Margy seemed covered with the whites and yellows of broken eggs from her head to her feet. And, as Mun Bun said, the “yellow showed the most.”
“Oh, you poor child!” exclaimed Mrs. Bunker, trying not to laugh. “Come to the house and I’ll wash you clean. Poor Margy! Never mind, dear!” for Margy was crying.