Marcus rested his hatchet on the board, and looked up. “You are a wasteful boy!” began Aunt Barbara. “You ought to be ashamed to cut up that good board!” “Don’t mind her,” said Marcus, in an undertone, as he resumed his work. “Wait a minute, Marcus,” said Hatty; and then raising her voice she called out, “Aunt Barbara, we want a coop for the chickens—some dear little bantams I brought from grandma’s!” “Chickens!” said Aunt Barbara, much as if she had said bears! “What on earth did you bring them here for? why, they’ll ruin everything in the garden, and crow so in the morning nobody can sleep.” “We are going to shut them up, Aunt Barbara, and that will keep them out of mischief,” said Hatty, trying to speak pleasantly. “Take your own way! take your own way! Its never any use for me to say anything!” said Aunt Barbara, and her window was put down with such a force that made the glass rattle. Marcus had expected to hear Hatty answer in her usual hasty way, and he was quite surprised to see that she did not seem at all angry, and now had no unkind remarks to make about Aunt Barbara. He did not know that Hatty had been obliged to cast one look up to the clear sky, to remember the Great Being who was looking down upon her, before she dare trust herself to speak, nor did he know that she was now wondering why Aunt Barbara should be so unlike her dear, dear grandma. Marcus kept steadily on at his work, but Hatty did not feel satisfied about it until she had asked her mother if there was really any harm in what they were doing. After Mrs. Lee had given them free permission to go on, the morning passed pleasantly away in watching Marcus, and she was quite surprised when the dinner bell rang. “O dear!” said Hatty, “we shall have hardly time to put ourselves in order for the table.” Although Marcus knew that it was his mother’s express wish that he should never come to the table without looking neat and tidy, he paid little regard to his personal appearance; but there was something in the eager way in which Hatty hastened to brush the hair she had been too much inclined to neglect, that had its influence on him. Hatty was in her seat before her father was at the table, and a pleased smile crossed her face as she saw that Marcus had been using the clothes brush, and combing his straight black hair off his high forehead. The dinner hour was always a pleasant time at Mrs. Lee’s, for then all the family were together, and some interesting conversation was sure to take place. Marcus was a restless boy, active in body and mind. He enjoyed his father’s society, and affected to think that he was the only one in the family who was really a suitable companion for a boy of the mature age of twelve!