Billy was sitting in the swing. Jimmy crawled over the fence and joined him.

“Miss Cecilia's dyeing me some Easter eggs,” he said, “all blue and pink and green and yelluh and every kind they is; I tooken her some of our hen's eggs and she is going to fix 'em for me and they'll be just like rabbit's eggs; I reckon I'll have 'bout a million. I'll give you one,” he added generously.

“I want more 'n one,” declared Billy, who was used to having the lion's share of everything.

“You all time talking 'bout you want more 'n one egg,” said Jimmy. “You 'bout the stingiest Peter they is. Ain't you got no eggs? Get Miss Minerva to give you some of hers and I'll take 'em over and ask Miss Cecilia to dye 'em for you 'cause you ain't 'quainted with her yet.”

“Aunt Minerva ain't got none 'cep'in' what she put under a of hen fer to set this mornin':”

“Can't you get 'em from under the old hen? Miss Minerva is such a Christian woman, she ain't—”

“You done fool me 'bout that 'ligious business befo',” interrupted Billy, “an' I got put to bed in the daytime.”

“Well, she won't never miss two or three eggs,” coaxed Jimmy. “How many did she put under the old hen?”

“She put fifteen,” was the response, “an' I don't believe she'd want me to tech 'em.”

“They 're 'bout the prettiest eggs ever was,” continued the tempter, “all blue and pink and green, and 'bout a million kinds. They're just perzactly like rabbit's eggs.”

“Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln ain't never hear teller no rabbit's eggs sence we's born,” said Billy; “I don't berlieve rabbits lays eggs nohow.”

“They don' lay 'em 'cept to Easter,” said Jimmy. “Miss Cecilia 'splained it all to me and she's my Sunday-School teacher and rabbits is bound to lay eggs 'cause it's in the Bible and she's 'bout the prettiest 'splainer they is. I'm going over there now to see 'bout my eggs,” and he made believe to leave the swing.

“Le's us slip roun' to the hen-house an' see what the of hen's a-doin',” suggested the sorely tempted Billy. “Aunt Minerva is a-makin' me some nightshirts an' she ain't takin' no notice of nothin' else.”

They tiptoed stealthily around the house to the back-yard, but found the hen-house door locked.

“Can't you get the key?” asked the younger child.

“Naw, I can't,” replied the other boy, “but you can git in th'oo this-here little hole what the chickens goes in at, whiles I watches fer Aunt Minerva. I'll stand right here an' hol' my cap whiles you fetches me the eggs. An' don't you take more 'n five or six,” he warned.

“I'm skeered of the old hen,” objected Jimmy. “Is she much of a pecker?”

“Naw, she ain't a-goin' to hurt you,” was the encouraging reply. “Git up an' crawl th'oo; I'll help you.”

Billy, having overcome his scruples, now entered into the undertaking with great zest.

Jimmy climbed the chicken ladder, kicked his chubby legs through the aperture, hung suspended on his fat little middle for an instant, and finally, with much panting and tugging, wriggled his plump, round body into the hen-house. He walked over where a lonesome looking hen was sitting patiently on a nest. He put out a cautious hand and the hen promptly gave it a vicious peck.

“Billy,” he called angrily, “you got to come in here and hold this old chicken; she's 'bout the terriblest pecker they is.”

Billy stuck his head in the little square hole. “Go at her from behind,” he suggested; “put yo' hand under her easy like, an' don' let her know what you's up to.”

Jimmy tried to follow these instructions, but received another peck for his pains. He promptly mutinied.

“If you want any eggs,” he declared, scowling at the face framed in the aperture, “you can come get 'em yourself. I done monkeyed with this chicken all I'm going to.”

So Billy climbed up and easily got his lean little body through the opening. He dexterously caught the hen by the nape of the neck, as he had seen Aunt Cindy do, while Jimmy reached for the eggs.

“If we ain't done lef' my cap outside on the groun',” said Billy. “What we goin' to put the eggs in?”

“Well, that's just like you, Billy, you all time got to leave your cap on the ground. I'll put 'em in my blouse till you get outside and then I'll hand 'em to you. How many you going to take?”

“We might just as well git 'em all now,” said Billy. “Aunt Cindy say they's some kinder hens won't lay no chickens 't all if folks put they hands in they nests an' this here hen look like to me she's one of them kind, so the rester the egg'll jest be waste, any how, 'cause you done put yo' han's in her nes', an' a dominicker ain't a-goin' to stan' no projeckin' with her eggs. Hurry up.”

Jimmy carefully distributed the eggs inside his blouse, and Billy once more crawled through the hole and stood on the outside waiting, cap in hand, to receive them.

But the patient hen had at last raised her voice in angry protest and set up a furious cackling, which so frightened the little boy on the inside that he was panic-stricken. He caught hold of a low roost pole, swung himself up and, wholly unmindful of his blouse full of eggs, pushed his lower limbs through the hole and stuck fast. A pair of chubby, sturdy legs, down which were slowly trickling little yellow rivulets, and half of a plump, round body were all that would go through.

“Pull!” yelled the owner of the short fat legs. “I'm stuck and can't go no furder. Pull me th'oo, Billy.”

About this time the defrauded fowl flew from her nest and attempted to get out by her rightful exit. Finding it stopped up by a wriggling, squirming body she perched herself on the little boy's neck and flapped her enraged wings in his face.

“Pull!” yelled the child again, “help me th'oo, Billy, 'fore this fool chicken pecks all the meat off 'm my bones.”

Billy grabbed the sticky limbs and gave a valiant tug, but the body did not move an inch. Alas, Jimmy with his cargo of broken eggs was fast imprisoned.

“Pull again!” yelled the scared and angry child, “you 'bout the idjetest idjet they is if you can't do no better 'n that.”

Billy jerked with all his strength, but with no visible result.

“Pull harder! You no-count gump!” screamed the prisoner, beating off the hen with his hands.

The boy on the outside, who was strong for his years, braced himself and gave a mighty wrench of the other child's stout extremities. Jimmy howled in pain and gave his friend an energetic kick.

“Lemme go!” he shrieked, “you old impe'dunt backbiter. I'm going to tell Miss Minerva you pulled my legs out by the roots.”

A small portion of the prisoner's blouse was visible. Billy caught hold of it and gave a strong jerk. There was a sound of ripping and tearing and the older boy fell sprawling on his back with a goodly portion of the younger child's raiment in his hands.

“Now see what you done,” yelled the victim of his energy, “you ain't got the sense of a buffalo gnat. Oh! oh! This hole is 'bout to cut my stomach open.”

“Hush, Jimmy!” warned the other child. “Don't make so much noise. Aunt Minerva'll hear you.”

“I want her to hear me,” screamed Jimmy. “You'd like me to stay stuck in a chicken hole all night. Oh! oh! oh!”

The noise did indeed bring Billy's aunt out on a tour of investigation. She had to knock a plank off the hen-house with an axe before Jimmy's release could be accomplished. He was lifted down, red, angry, sticky, and perspiring, and was indeed a sight to behold.

“Billy got to all time perpose something to get little boys in trouble,” he growled, “and got to all time get 'em stuck in a hole in a chicken-house.”

“My nephew's name is William,” corrected she.

“You perposed this here yo'self!” cried an indignant Billy. “Me an' Wilkes Booth Lincoln don' know nothin' 't all 'bout no rabbit's eggs sence we's born.”

“It doesn't matter who proposed it,” said his aunt firmly. “You are going to be punished, William. I have just finished one of your night-shirts. Come with me and put it on and go to bed. Jimmy, you go home and show yourself to your mother.”

“Pick up yo' shirt-tail offer the groun' what I tore off, Jimmy,” advised Billy, “an' take it home to yo' ma. Aunt Minerva,” he pleaded, following mournfully behind her, “please don't put me to bed; the Major he don' go to bed no daytimes; I won't never get me no mo' eggs to make rabbit's eggs outer.”