A Sweet Little Maid | Page 7

there that he liked.
So Rock was taken to the bookcase, and found there a book of travels he had been wanting to read, so he bade them good-bye, with it under his arm, promising soon to come again.
Then Dimple and Florence returned to the garden where they had left a colony of grasshoppers imprisoned in a small house built for them out of bits of wood and bark.
"Baby Grasshopper has gone," said Florence, in dismay, as she peeped in to see the prisoners.
"I knew he would get out; he was so little," returned Dimple. "Let's set them all free, Florence. We'll pretend that they escaped in the night, or that peace has been declared."
"Or that a tornado blew down their prison."
"Yes, that will be the best. We'll blow real hard, and maybe it will come down."
So, with cheeks much puffed out they blew and blew, but without avail, and finally they picked up their hats and fanned the little bark structure so vigorously that it toppled over, and the grasshoppers escaped in every direction, the children laughing to see how quickly they disappeared.
They sat there in the grass wondering what to do next when Dimple exclaimed, "There comes papa with Mr. Coulter,--he's the carpenter, you know--I wonder what he is going to do. See, Mr. Coulter is measuring the ground, and papa is explaining something. I can tell by the way he keeps doing so, with his hand. He always does that when he is explaining. Help me up, Florence, and let's go over there and see what's going on. Papa must mean to have something built. I hope it isn't a fence. No, it can't be that, for it would be too near the other one. Isn't it funny to watch men talking? They do so many funny things. Mr. Coulter keeps nodding his head like a horse."
Florence laughed and they made their way over to where the two men stood. As soon as they were within speaking distance, Dimple began to put her questions. "Are you going to build something, papa? What is it? Please don't say it's a fence, or a--a pig-sty."
Mr. Coulter chuckled as he went on laying his foot-rule along the ground.
"I hope it won't turn into a pig-sty," Mr. Dallas replied, with a smile. "It won't unless little pigs get into it."
"Are you going to keep little pigs?" Dimple asked.
"I didn't say so."
"Oh, papa, you are so mystiferious. I wish you would tell us all about it. What are you going to build? Any sort of house?"
"Yes, one sort of house."
"What is it to be for?"
"Little chicks."
"Ah!" Dimple was quite satisfied. "I see. You need a new hen house. Isn't the old one big enough? To be sure we don't get very many eggs just now, for so many of the hens are sitting. Oh, I know, maybe you are going to build a place like Mr. Lind's, with a--what is that thing? A inkybator. Are you going to have one of those? and a brooder? Are you, papa?"
"I haven't decided exactly what is to be in it, just yet. I think we'll let mamma see to that--she knows best what is needed. You shall know all about it in good time. But, Dimple, I don't want you to worry Mr. Coulter with questions, and I want you two little girls to keep away from the building while the work is going on."
"Yes, uncle." Florence gave her promise promptly.
"Yes--papa--but--" Dimple was disappointed. She dearly liked to watch the workmen when they came on the place, and she felt this was a deprivation which seemed unnecessary. "Why, papa, can't we look at the workmen? We won't ask questions and bother them," she said.
"I think it is best that you shouldn't this time. Can't you trust papa? When the proper time comes I'll show you the whole thing, and explain it all. Meantime I want you to be an obedient little girl, and keep out of the way."
Dimple looked up wistfully.
"Won't you please your father by minding what he says?" continued Mr. Dallas.
"Yes, papa," replied Dimple, faintly, "I will be sure to mind, only I wish you could let me see the house going up. It is such fun to climb about over the boards and things."
"I know it is, and I know I'm requiring a great deal of you, but I think in the end you will see why," returned her father.
"Have we many little chicks to go in it. I mean will there be a great many?"
Mr. Dallas and Mr. Coulter glanced at each other and smiled; then Mr. Dallas said, "It might be a good plan to go to the barn and see how old Speckle is getting on. Her time is about up, so perhaps we'll find some little chicks. I'll carry