"But how shall I find them," she asked, "if the hens hide them away so carefully ?" "Oh, you'll hear 'em scrattlin' round!" replied the farmer.

"They're gret fools, hens are,--greter than folks, as a rule; an' that is sayin' a good deal." They crossed the great sunny barn-yard, and paused at the barn-door, while Hilda looked in with delight.

A broad floor, big enough for a ballroom, with towering walls of fragrant hay on either side reaching up to the rafters; great doors open at the farther end, showing a snatch of blue, radiant sky, and a lovely wood-road winding away into deep thickets of birch and linden; dusty, golden, cobwebby sunbeams slanting down through the little windows, and touching the tossed hay-piles into gold; and in the middle, hanging by iron chains from the great central beam, a swing, almost big enough for a giant,--such was the barn at Hartley Farm; as pleasant a place, Hilda thought, as she had ever seen.
"Waal, Huldy, I'll leave ye heer," said the farmer; "ye kin find yer way home, I reckon." "Oh, yes, indeed!" said Hilda.

"But stop one moment, please, Farmer Hartley.

I want to know--will you please--may I teach Bubble Chirk a little ?" The farmer gave a low whistle of surprise; but Hilda went on eagerly: "I found him studying, this morning, while he was weeding the garden,--oh! studying so hard, and yet not neglecting his work for a minute.