"Ye 'most missed it, I tell ye," he grinned. "Ol' Mis' Perkins brought ye over some things t' take on your journey, an' she never got here until jist now. I've et Ma Perkins' pies an' things an' I couldn't abear fer ye to miss 'em."
He handed the package tied up in the napkin to Mr. Peniman.
"Mis' Perkins 'lowed she wanted to send some chicken along fer yer lunch," he went on, looking down at the squawking fowls in his hand, "but hearin' that the Friends had cooked up s' much fer ye she figgered she hadn't better cook hern, but send 'em along on th' hoof like, so's ye could have 'em any time ye liked."
The children all laughed, and even Mr. Peniman smiled.
"That was very kind of Friend Perkins," he said. "Thank her for us, won't you, Bill? But I declare I don't see how we are going to take those live chickens! We've got about all the live stock we can handle now."
"Oh, we must take them, Joshua," said Mrs. Peniman. "It would never do to send them back when she was so kind. We can manage to take care of them somehow."
"I've got a box in my wagon that hasn't much in it, Father," said Joe; "we could turn the things out and put them in that."
"You can kill and eat them any time they get to be a bother, you know," said Uncle Charles, who stood by.
Ruth, who loved every living creature, and who would have fed and mothered any number of pets, protested loudly.
"Oh, we will not kill them, Uncle Charles!" she cried. "Look at them, Father, aren't they perfect darlings? Let's take them along for pets, Father, I'll take care of them!"