Then, when all has been done that human ingenuity can suggest, Phoebe goes to her late supper and I do sentry-work.

I stroll to a safe distance, and, sitting on one of the rat-proof boxes, watch the bushes with an eagle eye.

Five minutes go by, ten, fifteen; and then out steps the white cock, stealthily tiptoeing toward the home into which he refused to go at our instigation.

In a moment out creeps the obstinate little beast of a black pullet from the opposite clump.

The wayward pair meet at their own door, which I have left open a few inches.