Beth rushed out, ready to a.s.sist the birds, if necessary, but her aid was not needed.

Black puss and Fritz were so taken by surprise at the fierce onslaught of the birds that they turned and sneaked away as fast as they could go. Thus, through the power of love, the weaker triumphed over the stronger. Later on the mocking birds also came out victors in another contest, and against greater numbers, too. It happened in this wise:

As the days went by, Beth grew somewhat restless. She did not exactly tire of Fritz, puss, and Arabella, but she longed for diversion. Then one evening Mr. Davenport brought home a large coop of chickens, and calling Beth to him, he said:

"You are to tend these, daughter, and hunt eggs every day."

"Oh you dear, good papa. I want to take one of the sweet things in my arms."

Thereupon she tried to get a chicken, but somehow, in so doing, she upset the coop. Away flurried the chickens in every direction. Beth felt ready to cry.

"Never mind," said Mr. Davenport; "when they go to roost to-night, we can catch them, and put them in the chicken house."

That night, some of the chickens perched on sheds, and some on trees.

A few had the hardihood to fly up on the branches of the live oak in the front yard.

Mrs. Mocking Bird was just falling asleep in the nest with her young, and Mr. Mocking Bird was already asleep not far from her side. The chickens aroused the mother bird in an instant.

"Dearest," she piped, "I hear a dreadful noise down-stairs. I think there must be burglars in the house. You must go down and see."

Now, every one knows that a man hates to be disturbed from a sound sleep, and Mr. Mocking Bird proved no exception.

"Oh, birdie," he grumbled, "do leave me alone; you're always imagining things."

"Imagining things, am I?" she answered shrilly. "Just hear that awful noise. You're so lazy that you would see me and the children murdered before you'd move. If you don't want me to think you a coward, you'll go down this instant. This instant, I say."

Now Mr. Mocking Bird was, as Mrs. Mocking Bird knew, very brave, and he also loved her praise. So he only blinked his eyes once more, and literally flew down-stairs. There he spied the chickens settling down for a good night's rest. Such impudence aroused his ire. He did not hesitate a second, but dived into their midst and pecked furiously at the poor, unsuspecting intruders. The chickens, taken utterly by surprise, fluttered to the ground without offering any resistance.

They cackled so loudly, however, that the noise brought t.i.tus to their rescue, and he succeeded in capturing the badly frightened hens.

Mr. Mocking Bird, triumphant, ascended to his anxious spouse.

"Dearest," she cried, "you're not hurt, are you?"

"Hurt!" he repeated boastfully, "hurt? Well, I should say not. It was only some upstart chickens who dared to sneak into the house, and I'm more than a match for any number of such. I guess we shan't be disturbed again by chickens or by impudent dogs and cats."

Mr. Mocking Bird proved right in his surmise. The birds thereafter enjoyed their home without further intrusion.

Under Beth's care, the chickens flourished finely. They laid many an egg which in due time were placed beneath mamma hens.

There was a very proud little girl in the Davenport family when finally b.a.l.l.s of yellow broke through the egg sh.e.l.ls.

Then Beth began saving eggs for Easter, and, on Easter Day, she found that she had enough to give every darky one, besides having all that were wanted for her own family.

This Eastertide brought new diversions to Beth. For one thing, she received an invitation to spend a night in town with a little girl named Laura Corner. The Davenports and the Corners had been friends in the North before the two families moved South.

Beth had never before spent a night away from home. She thought it would be a "sperience" to go, and prevailed upon Mrs. Davenport to let her accept the invitation.

The momentous day arrived at last. Beth wished to take all her belongings with her, from Fritz to a small trunk. She had to be content, however, with a valise.

Fritz and Arabella were admonished to be good during her absence, and the chickens were entrusted to Marian's care.

Mrs. Davenport drove Beth to town. Upon reaching the Corners' home, Beth's heart sank unaccountably, and she had a hard time to keep the tears back, when she kissed her mother good-bye. However, Laura and the Corners were so very cordial that her spirits soon revived.

In the afternoon several little girls, who had been invited to play, came in. Among the number was one who especially attracted Beth. She was slight and graceful. Her hair was golden and her eyes were blue.

Beth, of course, was introduced to all the girls, but did not catch the name of this one.

"She looks like that picture of the cherub we have at home," decided Beth. "I wonder what her name is. I guess I'll call her 'Cherub' to myself. Cherub, you're very pretty, but you're too quiet to be much fun."

Most of the little girls had their dolls with them; all, in fact, excepting Beth and the "Cherub." The latter sat apart from the other children. She looked so very demure that Beth thought her bashful, and took pity on her. Seating herself beside her, she asked:

"Wouldn't your mamma let you bring your doll? My mamma thought I had better not bring mine so far."

The "Cherub" showed little interest in the conversation. She answered curtly:

"I haven't a doll."

Beth's eyes opened in surprise. "You haven't any doll? What a pity."

Then she hesitated. She feared the "Cherub" might be too poor to afford dolls. She was soon undeceived, however, by the "Cherub"

exclaiming:

"_I_ don't think it a pity. I don't care for dolls; they're a nuisance. I like to play outdoors."

"So do I."

The "Cherub" grew animated. "Do you? Say, can you climb trees and walk on stilts and----"

"What are stilts?"

"Don't you know?" There was a slight contempt expressed for such woeful ignorance. "They are long pieces of wood with places for your feet up from the ground. It's just as if you had wooden legs, only they make you tall so that you feel quite grown up."

"I'd like to walk on stilts."

"Would you? Where do you live?"

"Out on the old sh.e.l.l road."

"What! are your folks the people who bought the place near us?"

"Do you live on the sh.e.l.l road, too?" Beth was delighted. She was beginning to think the "Cherub" might prove very companionable.

"Yes. Your name is Beth Davenport, isn't it? Mine's Julia Gordon.

Say, Beth, I'll come to see you and teach you how to walk on stilts if you like."

"Will you, really? When will you come?"

"To-morrow morning."

Beth's face fell. "Oh, that's a pity. I shan't be home. I'm going to stay here all night."