The peonies and rhubarb were pushing bright yellow and red cones through the earth.

The old gander, leading his flock along the Wabash, had hailed passing flocks bound northward until he was hoarse; and the Brahma rooster had threshed the yellow dorkin until he took refuge under the pig pen, and dare not stick out his unprotected head.
The doors had stood open at supper time, and Dannie staid up late, mending and oiling the harness.

Jimmy sat by cleaning his gun, for to his mortification he had that day missed killing a crow which stole from the ash hopper the egg with which Mary tested the strength of the lye.

In a basket behind the kitchen stove fifteen newly hatched yellow chickens, with brown stripes on their backs, were peeping and nestling; and on wing the killdeers cried half the night.

At two o'clock in the morning came a tap on the Malone's bedroom window.
"Dannie ?" questioned Mary, half startled.
"Tell Jimmy!" cried Dannie's breathless voice outside.