Greyskin. She had
not been seen for many days, and Mrs. Heaven concluded that she had
hidden herself somewhere with a family of kittens; but as the supply of
that article with us more than equals the demand, we had not searched for
her with especial zeal.
The other day Mrs. Greyskin appeared at the dairy door, and when she had
been fed Phoebe and I followed her stealthily, from a distance. She
walked slowly about as if her mind were quite free from harassing care,
and finally approached a deserted cow-house where there was a great mound
of straw. At this moment she caught sight of us and turned in another
direction to throw us off the scent. We persevered in our intention of
going into her probable retreat, and were cautiously looking for some
sign of life in the haymow, when we heard a soft cackle and a ruffling of
plumage. Coming closer to the sound we saw a black hen brooding a nest,
her bright bead eyes turning nervously from side to side; and, coaxed out
from her protecting wings by youthful curiosity, came four kittens, eyes
wide open, warm, happy, ready for sport!
The sight was irresistible, and Phoebe ran for Mr. and Mrs. Heaven and
the Square Baby. Mother Hen was not to be embarrassed or daunted, even
if her most sacred feelings were regarded in the light of a cheap
entertainment. She held her ground while one of the kits slid up and
down her glossy back, and two others, more timid, crept underneath her
breast, only daring to put out their pink noses! We retired then for
very shame and met Mrs.
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