THEIR FORTUNATE ESCAPE in 



and also that a thrifty Pennsylvania air may be thrown 

 about our altogether too delightful and altruistic summer 

 arrangements! It's t-o-o bad!" I wailed. 



Of course I know, Mrs. Evan, that I was in a temper, 

 and that my " in-laws" mean well, but since comfortable 

 setting hens have gone out of fashion, and incubators 

 and brooders taken their place, there is no more pleas- 

 ure or sentiment about raising poultry than in manu- 

 facturing any other article by rule. It's a business, and 

 a very pernickety one to boot, and it's to keep Bart 

 away from business that we are striving. Besides, that 

 chicken book tells how many square feet per hen must 

 be allowed for the exercising yards, and how the pens 

 for the little chicks must be built on wheels and moved 

 daily to fresh pasture. All the vegetable garden and 

 flower beds and the bit of side lawn which I want for 

 mother's rose garden would not be too much ! But I 

 seem to be leaving the track again. 



Bart didn't say a word, except that "At any rate we 

 must bring the fowls up from the station," and as the 

 stable door was locked and the key in Barney's pocket, 

 Bart and The Man started to walk down to the village 

 to look him up in some of his haunts, or failing in this 

 to get the express wagon from the stable. 



Maria and I sat and talked for some time about The 



