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Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith, 1856-1923

"Mother Carey's Chickens"


"See the hens and chickens and the Plymouth Rock rooster!"
"And the white calf lying down under the maple; he's about the prettiest
thing in the room," said Gilbert.
"We must just let it be and think it out," said Mother Carey. "Don't put
any new paper on, now; there's plenty to do downstairs."
"I don't know 's I should particularly like to lay abed in this room,"
said Osh, his eyes roving about the chamber judicially. "I shouldn't hev
no comfort ondressin' here, nohow; not with this mess o' live stock
lookin' at me every minute, whatever I happened to be takin' off. I
s'pose that rooster'd be right on to his job at sun-up! Well, he
couldn't git ahead of Mis' Popham, that's one thing; so 't I shouldn't
be any worse off 'n I be now! I don't get any too much good sleep as 't
is! Mis' Popham makes me go to bed long afore I'm ready, so 't she can
git the house shut up in good season; then 'bout 's soon's I've settled
down an' bed one short nap she says, 'It's time you was up, Ossian!"'
"Mother! I have an idea!" cried Nancy suddenly, as Mr. Popham took his
leave and the family went out into the hall. "Do you know who could make
the walls look as they used to? My dear Olive Lord!"
"She's only sixteen!" objected Mrs. Carey.
"But she's a natural born genius! You wait and see the things she does!"
"Perhaps I could take her into town and get some suggestions or some
instruction, with the proper materials," said Mrs.


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