HAPPY days succeeded each other with rapidity at the farm. Sally was enchanted with the poultry yard and spent much time fussing over the beautiful Cochin China and White Leghorn fowls. Already one enterprising hen had hatched a brood of dear little fluffy, yellow chicks and marched proudly around the yard clucking and scratching. Sally thought she had never seen such rapacious youngsters. They were always hungry, always peeping for more worms to eat. Sally longed to pick up the dear little fluffy balls and kiss and cuddle them. They reminded her of so many Easter penwipers running around on felt, although in her tender little heart she hoped that the Easter chicks were manufactured. It would have been such an act of cruelty to slaughter the darling baby chickabiddies for horrid old penwipers.

Mr. Hale, however, to whom Sally often confided her views, remarked, with a great want of sentiment, that it was really no worse than eating them later on. At which the little girl became very thoughtful. She was indeed extremely fond of chicken dinners as demonstrated by Mrs. Hale.

Meantime Bob was absorbed in the Belgian hares and star guinea-pigs. Mr. Hale made a business of raising them and Dr. North had purchased a number of pairs, knowing how fond the children would become of them. Sally adored them all and soon divided with them her love for the chicks. These she could take up in her arms and cuddle and hug. They were all tame and would permit almost any amount of petting. One day Sally received a great surprise. She was hurrying down to the barns where the cows were kept, to be introduced to a newly arrived baby calf, when suddenly Peter Pan, whom she had securely tucked under her arm, twisted himself around and remarked, in his funny little growling voice, “I wish you wouldn’t squeeze me so tight. You really hurt me.”

Sally sat down suddenly on the grass just where she stood, she was so astonished. Of course she dropped the bear, who quickly gained his equilibrium and sat up on his haunches, rubbing first one elbow and then the other, with such a comical expression that the child burst out laughing. “I suppose you thought it was a dream,” said the Teddy bear rather severely. “Well, it wasn’t. But I have discovered something since then. In fact, since we have been down here in the country, I have found out that if I am very quiet and sleep at night I can get busy in the daytime. I was talking to a crow the other night. He hopped in on the window sill after you had gone to sleep. He recommended me to try it and it works like a charm.” Here Peter Pan turned a complete somersault and looked so perfectly absurd in doing it that the child lay back and laughed until she was weak.

“The only thing that bothers me,” went on the Teddy bear, “is Bedelia. She will be in mischief all the time now. So many avenues of enterprise were closed to her at night.”

The little girl sat up and wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “What made you tell her?” she inquired.

“I didn’t,” retorted the bear. “She simply followed my example from force of habit. And now goodness knows what trouble she will stir up.”

“Why don’t you hibernate?” said the child reflectively. “She would follow your example and then I could waken you up and——.” Sally broke off suddenly. She had just caught a glimpse of a small brown figure skulking along in the shadow of the hollyhocks.

“There she is now,” she exclaimed. “I wonder what she can be up to.”

In another moment a great clucking and squawking was heard in the direction of the hen house. Sally quickly caught up Peter Pan and raced thither as fast as her legs could carry her.

And a comical scene it was that revealed itself to the little girl as she hastily swung open the door of the hen house, which already stood ajar. Firmly seated on the nest of the big White Leghorn hen was Bedelia, her ample proportions elaborately spread out over the eggs of the distracted biddy; nor would she be dislodged by all the frenzied pickings and cluckings of the outraged mother.

“Really, my dear, you are very unwise,” remarked Peter Pan to the triumphant Bedelia, with a solemn wink. “Suppose one of the hired men had discovered you?”

Sally, however, wasted no time in reasoning. She simply picked up the naughty Bedelia and hurried her off to the house, where she locked her securely in a big closet that opened from Miss Palmer’s bedroom.

It was a very roomy closet and there was a transom over the door which made it sufficiently light for Bedelia to see what she was doing. But there was nothing of interest except Miss Palmer’s trunk which was locked and consequently inaccessible.

Bedelia after nosing around for a few moments was just about to give up in despair, when suddenly she uttered a little shriek of joy. For she stumbled over something soft, and lo and behold! there were the twins and Little Breeches, sitting in a row far back against the wall, just where nurse had plumped them down when they were unpacked.

There they had remained alone and forgotten since their arrival.

Bedelia’s fertile brain did not take very long to evolve a method of escape now that she had discovered such valuable confederates in the shape of her cubs; and she proceeded to shake them vigorously, one after the other, which form of procedure left them very wide awake indeed.

Under her able direction they first climbed upon the trunk and then upon each other’s shoulders, making a sort of step-ladder, up which Bedelia quickly climbed, and slipping through the transom which happened to be open, took a flying leap right into the middle of Miss Palmer’s bed.

Having given vent to her displeasure by rumpling up the bed clothes and throwing the pillows on the floor, she trotted away without waiting to liberate the cubs, whom she left to cool their heels in the closet.

Downstairs she skipped and out on to the big verandah, and seeing that the coast was clear she took to her heels and sped as swiftly as her paws could carry her in the direction of the barn.

Sally’s voice floated toward her, laughing and chattering to Peter Pan as the two swayed backward and forward in the big swing under the apple tree, now white with its perfumed blossoms.

But Bedelia had very good reasons of her own for wishing to remain unseen, and forged ahead, keeping well in the shadow of the hollyhock hedge, and this time succeeded in escaping observation.

Swiftly she hastened to the stables and there, once inside in the cool half-twilight, paused and looked about her.

Most of the stalls were empty, but Doxey, the beautiful Shetland pony, lifted his head with its flowing double mane and regarded her with serious brown eyes.

But it was not Doxey to whom the meddlesome little bear now turned her attention, but to Dick, the woolly white Angora goat, whose stall was just next. In a moment she was swarming up on his back, pulling herself up by his thick coat and finally taking her station on his back, when grasping his horns with her two front paws she issued a series of vigorous “get ups” that had the final effect of producing a series of gyrations which the ambitious equestrienne had not taken into her calculations.

Suddenly heading around, Dick made a break for the door and once outside proceeded to stand first on his hind and then on his fore legs, for, failing to send the queer thing on his back sliding down over his tail, he concluded that the next best thing was to start her slipping over his head.

But neither performance served to dislodge Bedelia. She stuck like a burr and all Dick’s frantic experiments in the matter of jumping and bucking proved futile.

Round and round they spun, Dick’s hind hoofs describing the circumference of a circle; until finally, with an indignant snort and fully determined to rid himself of his terrifying incumbrance, he flung himself full length on the turf and commenced to roll over and over. Now indeed did Bedelia prove the depth of her generalship. She had precious little time to consider how she should escape being flattened out like a pancake, but she mastered the situation by a sudden stroke of genius the like of which sometimes accompanies a desperate situation.

Suddenly she sprang into the air and continued to spring at intervals, Dick’s revolving body giving her for a second a precarious foothold as she descended, something after the fashion of a performing circus pony who turns a barrel with his hoofs. And so she kept on hopping up and down for her life while Dick continued to roll, horns and hoofs alternately twinkling in the air. And how long the ridiculous comedy would have gone on goodness only knows, had not Mike, the hired hand, just then appeared on the scene.