She was a nervous old thing, but she was a good mother, and good mother hens, good animal mothers, and our own mothers too, never seem to think of themselves when there is danger around. They just look out for their little ones.
"Robber Hawk, robber! Shan't touch 'em—robber!" she said.
Then—quick as a wink—there was another loud noise, just like that day when Jim Crow fell in the cornfield.
"Bang, bang!"
Jehosophat, Marmaduke and Hepzebiah jumped.
They looked around.
There stood the Toyman with the gun at his shoulder.
Little puffs of smoke like white feathers floated away from the muzzles of the gun.
"Winged him, anyway!" cried the Toyman.
They looked up.