FEEDING TIME 



priceless privileges. Although it would be better if 

 they had a bit of pasture to run in, they are not en- 

 tirely deprived of green food. At noon every day 

 they are allowed a run in the orchard with a boy to 

 watch them and keep them out of mischief. (N.B. — 

 I must cheer up the boy who has the job by telling 

 him the history of the royal family of Serbia, which 

 is descended from a swineherd. Also I must en- 

 courage him to read Ivanhoe and get acquainted 

 with Gurth, the swineherd.) 



Of course it is a nuisance to have Beatrice and 

 her family at large in the barnyard, but the world 

 must have bacon, even if we are not properly 

 equipped for hog-raising. All gates and doors must 

 be kept closed at all times or there is sure to be 

 trouble. Still, her alert presence disciplines us to 

 tidiness and occasionally develops a bit of comedy. 

 Yesterday morning I arrived at the barnyard just 

 in time to witness an exciting little scene. The boy 

 who looks after the hens had neglected to take a pail 

 with him when he went to the granary for chicken 

 feed, and thought he could carry it safely in a straw 

 hat. With his hatful of oats he turned to close the 

 latch on the granary door, and Beatrice saw her 



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