When we started again he joined us, and calling to Mary and Della, he had them come too.
Serena hasn't much sense of humor, but I could see she was nearly killing herself laughing under the rose-bushes. Della understood almost as quickly as Mr. Denville had done. Mary was mystified. Della and Mr. Denville put their heads together, and soon the chase was over. Guinea was caught and held firmly, while Della went to rummage in her mother's workbasket.
Mr. Denville took the empty spool and made a little clog. This he fastened to guinea's leg. Then he set her down. The poor rooster who was thankfully reposing under a tree, started up as soon as he saw her coming, but she did not pursue. Every step she took, the little clog flapped against her leg. She would stop to look at it and the rooster would stop to see why she wasn't coming.
Dear little Mary just shrieked at the guinea-hen's foolish actions. She was so boisterous in her mirth that soon she had all the family out in the back-yard. The men were coming home from work, and I think guinea was well paid for her unkindness. Everybody made fun of her, and finally she slunk away very quietly, and climbed to the top of an apple-tree. There is a wild streak in guinea-hens, and they hate hen-houses.
Della petted the rooster and gave him a special supper from the farm table. Next day he came out of the hen-house refreshed from a good night's sleep, and led his girls gaily down to the meadow. His head was up, he stepped high. Guinea was so taken up with her clog that she never noticed him. She had something to do now that kept her active mind out of mischief, and later on, when I got acquainted with her, I found she was quite a nice sort of a creature, as fowls go. There is good in every created thing, even mischievous guinea-hens.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE OWL AND THE CHICKENS
Serena liked me to go with her when she took her walks about the farm at night. At first I was flattered at her preference for me, then I was interested, and finally I was responsive. Serena was really getting fond of me, and she was becoming unselfish and companionable. She knew that I admired her, and she was so clever that when she set about trying to make me love her she succeeded easily.
“We're sisters,” she said gently. “We ought to be great friends.”
“Chums,” I said.
“Chums, if you like,” she responded graciously. “The older I grow the more I recognize the tie of blood between relatives—and you are really quite nice-looking at times, Black-Face. Just lower your head a little, till I lick your fur into shape between your ears where you can't reach it with your tongue.”