“Yes, indeed, farmer!” declared the little girl, picking him up and tenderly smoothing him. “If it hadn’t been for you, I doubt if I’d have had a garden!”
“Oh, I’m the happiest rooster in the wide world!” sighed Feather Flop, “and if I weren’t just a plain farmer rooster, I’d turn into a fairy prince, dressed in blue satin trimmed with gold and diamonds, but as it is—I’m hungry!”
“Come!” laughed Mary Frances. “Come, eat,” she said. “I like you far better than any fairy prince, for you’re my own dear friend—my farmer, Feather Flop.”
And Feather Flop looked so proud you might have imagined him in tiny overalls and sun hat.
THE boys had been at school several weeks, and Mary Frances and Eleanor were well started in their studies, when one golden-leafed day in October, each girl received a letter from her brother as they stopped at the post office on their way from school.
“We’re coming home on Friday,” both letters read alike, “to plant the bulbs, and we’ll expect your help after school, and all day Saturday, if necessary; and we’ll hope—just hope—for some play house cooking.”
“Isn’t it comical for them to say just the same thing!” exclaimed Eleanor.
“Won’t we have fun!” Mary Frances answered. “Let’s see, this is Wednesday. I wonder if Billy wrote to Mother.” And away they flew to find out.
“Mother, you’ve known for several days, I just believe,” declared Mary Frances, whereat her mother laughed and confessed that she had known, but that it was her turn to keep a surprise in store for them. Then all three fell to making plans for the visit.
“We’ll give a dinner in the play house,” decided Mary Frances, “and invite you and Father.”
“Oh, you children would have more pleasure without grown-ups,” protested her mother.
“Not a bit of fun without _our_ kind of ‘grown-ups,’ you mean,” Mary Frances contradicted lovingly. “Doesn’t she, Eleanor?”
“Yes, indeed!” Eleanor answered emphatically.
“You dear children!” was all the mother said, but the girls knew that their invitation was accepted.
When the boys came, there was so much to talk about that they didn’t get to work until Saturday. There were stories of the jokes which the second year fellows played on the “Freshies,” and of the winning of the big football game, and of the rigid training in athletics, and a volume of other talk new to the girls; at least, new to Eleanor, and equally entertaining to Mary Frances and her parents.