Again I interposed, but I had to send William away to milk before my landlord could be placated enough to lower his voice to a reasonable pitch, then my anger suddenly flamed to a white heat. I had intended to soothe his ruffled feelings by paying for the damage, but instead, I found myself resenting the imputation that my hens, brought up from the shell to habits of virtue and propriety, could be guilty of such dishonesty. Still, my tone was calm and my manner patronizing as I challenged him to prove his charge; then before he had recovered from his astonishment I advised him to overcome the besetting sin of avarice that prompted him to swindle me in every possible way. I saw that he knew his own weakness, he was so stung by my words; but there was more of malicious triumph than of blind anger in the ring of his voice. "Proof!" he ejaculated contemptuously. "The kind of proof you'll get is to have them hens come home without their feathers on if I catch them in my fields. I've a bit of news for you," he went on, with a grin of satisfaction. "I've had two good offers to sell the place and I was going to give you the chance of topping them, but now that you've broke out into insulting language I wouldn't sell to you if you offered me ten thousand dollars." It was with difficulty that I repressed my amusement; he was so obviously unsuspicious that I was a bidder, and when I assured him that the news didn't cause me any concern he grew still more angry. "I'll go to the city to-morrow," he threatened me, "and I'll sell to whichever of them two men wants to live on the place, and you'll have to move when your lease is up." Again I smiled; nothing he could do would suit me better than to have him hurry up in closing the bargain, but I tried to look as if my smile were forced to hide my disappointment. Peter glanced at me suspiciously as he turned away. It is quite an ordinary occurrence to have one's chickens come home to roost, but not without their feathers, as two of mine did the next day. I could not look at them without a shudder, yet I could not keep from looking at them, and until Marion clothed them in two tiny shirts that Paul had worn in his infancy I could not smile at the fascinating absurdity of their appearance and the consternation of their friends and relatives. It was only too clear why Peter had not carried out his threat of going to the city that day to close the sale of the place; he had been lying in wait for my unfortunate chickens in his pea-field. My blood boiled at the thought of how the malevolent rascal must be chuckling over the way he had proved his case, but my anger was trifling in comparison with William's. "I tell you, Mr. Carton," he affirmed, "I'll pay him back. I'll make him the laughin' stock of the county. Let me catch one of his critters on this side of the fence, and he won't be able to tell whether it's a bird of the air or a beast of the field when it goes home." XI THE WEDDING-DAY