“Ka, ka, ka,” said a demure voice.
“Oh! the nest boxes,” remarked Mrs. Denville in a voice equally demure, and she approached the wall where there were fastened up some rows of things that I did not understand.
It seems they were nest boxes. I crept closely after Mrs. Denville, then, as I could not see, I sprang on the rack of perches.
Oh! how cunning! There in that nice roomy nest, on a clean straw bed, sat a fat gray hen with a red comb and the quaintest air in the world.
“She is likely sitting on eggs,” said Mrs. Denville, “hens are shy at such times. We must not frighten her.”
“Oh, mamma,” exclaimed Mary, “I must stroke her,” and she reached out one cautious finger.
“Be careful,” said her mother, but her caution was not needed. The hen was evidently a great pet, for she only pecked kindly at Mary's finger, and said again gently, “Ka! Ka! Ka!”
“I wonder how many eggs she has,” continued Mrs. Denville, and she gently pushed the hen on one side.
The gray biddy, far from resenting this familiarity, agreeably stepped off the nest, said very loudly a number of times, “Ka! Ka! Ka!” and went up to a dish of water where she took a great many drinks.
Little Mary was squealing with delight. There was one new-laid egg in the nest beside a china nest egg.