Meanwhile Phronsie was having her visit with good Mrs. Brown. Mother Pepper, seeing how things were, had begged to be left in the big old kitchen to see to the dinner. There were a pair of ducks roasting away in the oven, and a big chicken pie, for the farmer’s wife was determined to do things up well, and there were potatoes and onions boiling away, with cranberry sauce and ever so many pies in the cupboard waiting their turn to be invited to the table. And Mrs. Pepper, with one of Mrs. Brown’s checked aprons tied over her neat calico gown, moving about, in all the mysteries of “seeing to dinner,” had such a happy smile on her face that the big kitchen, although it was just as different as a kitchen could be from the little-brown-house one, began to seem cheery and home-y at once.
“Phronsie,” said the farmer’s wife, “I tell you what let’s you an’ me do—we’ll go an’ see th’ chickens first—an’ get them off’n our minds.”
“We’ll go and see the chickies,” hummed Phronsie, and putting up her small hand for the farmer’s wife to take it, which so pleased Mrs. Brown that her head went quite high in the air as she picked up her black alpaca gown and stepped off.
“I see them,” cried Phronsie, on a high key, and she tried gently to pull Mrs. Brown along faster as they neared the chicken yard.
“Yes, yes, child,” said Mrs. Brown, who wasn’t accustomed to much walking out of doors, “you don’t need to hurry so.”
“They’re going off,” said Phronsie in a worried way.
“Oh, no, they ain’t. Hens always has to be steppin’ round important. They ain’t doin’ nothin’, only they like to be on the move all the while.”
“Will they wait for us?” asked Phronsie, anxiously watching the incessant movement in the chicken yard.
“My soul an’ body!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown, with a little laugh, “you’ll find ’em fast enough when we get there.” But she redoubled her pace, lumbering on till she was quite red in the face.
“Can we go in?” cried Phronsie, very much excited, as a whole bunch of fluffy little yellow chicks tumbled over each other to get away from the noise of their footsteps.