“Well, my mother says we’re going to stay here, and if you want me to play with you,” said this infantile socialist, “we might as well divide them up right now.” “Oh!” gasped Tess. “I’ll take a third of them. They can be easily divided. I choose _this_ one to begin with,” said Lillie, diving for the Alice-doll. With a shriek of alarm, Dot rescued this—her choicest possession—and stood on the defensive, the Alice-doll clasped close to her breast. “No! you can’t have that,” said Tess, decidedly. “Why not?” demanded Lillie. “Why—it’s the doll Dot loves the best.” “Well,” said Lillie, calmly, “I suppose if I chose one of _yours_, you’d holler, too. I never did see such selfish girls. Huh! if I can’t have the dolls I want, I won’t choose any. I don’t want to play with the old things, anyway!” and she made a most dreadful face at the Kenway sisters. “Oh-oh!” whispered Dot. “I don’t like her at all.” “Well, I suppose we must amuse her,” said Tess, strong for duty. “But she says she is going to stay here all the time,” pursued the troubled Dot, as Lillie wandered off toward the foot of the garden. “I don’t believe that can be so,” said Tess, faintly. “But it’s our duty to entertain her, while she _is_ here.” “I don’t see why we should. She’s not a nice girl at all,” Dot objected. “Dot! you know very well Ruth wants us to look out for her,” Tess said, with emphasis. “We can’t get out of it.” So the younger girl, over-ruled by Tess, followed on. At the foot of the garden, Lillie caught sight of Ruth’s flock of hens. Uncle Rufus had repaired the henhouse and run, and Ruth had bought in the market a dozen hens and a rooster of the white Plymouth Rock breed. Mr. Rooster strutted around the enclosure very proudly with his family. They were all very tame, for the children made pets of them. “Don’t you ever let them out?” asked Lillie, peering through the wire-screen. “No. Not now, Ruth says. They would get into the garden,” Tess replied. “Huh! you could shoo them out again. I had a pet hen at Ypsilanti. I’d rather have hens than dolls, anyway. The hens are alive,” and she tried the gate entering upon the hen-run. “Oh!” exclaimed Tess. “You mustn’t let them out.” “Who’s letting them out?” demanded Lillie. “Well, then, you mustn’t go into the yard.” “Why not?” repeated the visitor. “Ruth won’t like it.” “Well, I guess my mother’s got more to say about this place than your sister has. She says she’s going to show a parcel of girls how to run this house, and run it right. That’s what she told Aunt Adeline and Uncle Noah, when we went to live with them in Ypsilanti.” Thus speaking, Lillie opened the gate and walked into the poultry yard. At once there was great excitement in the flock. Lillie plunged at the nearest hen and missed her. The rooster uttered a startled and admonitory “Cut! cut! ca-dar-cut!” and led the procession of frightened hens about the yard. “Aren’t hens foolish?” demanded Lillie, calmly. “I am not going to hurt her.”