"O, mamma, show them the nice seed, and then they won't go away!"
But her mamma answered,—
"Not yet, Rosy; let us go first and look at these good ladies that are walking about inside their house. We can have a good look at them before they get away. See, they can't get out if we stand at the door."
"Ah, look at these beauties, all over speckly feathers," cried Rosy, as she ran forward to catch one.
She put out her little arms to seize her; but the hen seemed to think this a great liberty from so small a child, and instead of running away, she turned and opened her beak in a very angry manner.
"Take care, Rosy," said her mamma, as the little girl drew back half frightened. "This hen seems rather a fierce lady. I will give her some seed to persuade her to be quiet. Perhaps she has got something there that she does not choose us to see. I wonder what it can be."
Rosy took one more peep, and then called out,—
"O, mamma, mamma, some little chickens, I do declare! If you stoop down you can see them running about behind her,—such dear, pretty, soft little creatures! Do get me one to play with."
"Little chickens!" said mamma; "why, they must have come out of their shells very late in the year if they are little ones still, and I am afraid their mother won't let me touch them."