class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[52]"/> was too good for that, and she thought it better to make it last a little.

But some of the yellow would stick on Rosy's lips; so mamma wiped it off, and then Rosy put her arms round her neck and kissed her, and said,—

"So nice, dear mamma."

Then mamma said,—

"At the end of the garden, Rosy, there lives the good hen that gave us this nice egg, and a great many other hens, and very fine cocks too,—the cocks that you heard crowing this morning. Shall we go and see them after breakfast?"

"O, yes, yes, yes!" cried Rosy, clapping her hands, "that will be fun. I've almost done mine;" and the little girl made great haste to finish her bread and milk; but mamma said,—

"Ah, but not quite directly. I've not done my breakfast. If you have done yours, you had better go and see what nurse is doing, and ask her to get ready to come and hear papa read about Daniel in the lions' den."

Rosy did not mind waiting for that, for she was never tired of hearing that story. I dare say that some of her young friends know it too.

Her mamma got ready soon after, and they both went round to a part of the garden which Rosy had not seen before.

There they saw that one piece was railed off from all the rest, and that a hen-house was inside it.

Rosy's mamma opened a gate in the railing, and took her little girl into the enclosure amongst all the cocks and hens.

The cocks did not seem much to like this, and they both made a great crowing, and then marched off into the farthest corner, with a lot of hens after them.

Rosy said,—

"O, mamma, show them the nice seed, and then they won't go away!"

But her mamma answered,—

"Not yet, Rosy; let us go first and look at these good ladies that are walking about inside their house. We can have a good look at them before they get away. See, they can't get out if we stand at the door."

"Ah, look at these beauties, all over speckly feathers," cried Rosy, as she ran forward to catch one.

She put out her little arms to seize her; but the hen seemed to think this a great liberty from so small a child, and instead of running away, she turned and opened her beak in a very angry manner.

"Take care, Rosy," said her mamma, as the little girl drew back half frightened. "This hen seems rather a fierce lady. I will give her some seed to persuade her to be quiet. Perhaps she has got something there that she does not choose us to see. I wonder what it can be."

Rosy took one more peep, and then called out,—

"O, mamma, mamma, some little chickens, I do declare! If you stoop down you can see them running about behind her,—such dear, pretty, soft little creatures! Do get me one to play with."

"Little chickens!" said mamma; "why, they must have come out of their shells very late in the year if they are little ones still, and I am afraid their mother won't let me touch them."

"Do chickens come out of shells?" said Rosy, making very large eyes, and looking quite puzzled.

"Yes, Rosy, out of just such shells as our eggs had this morning; and if in the summer we had given this good hen five or six of her own eggs in this little house of hers, she would have sat upon them, and spread her wings over them to keep them warm; and there she would have staid so patiently all day long, and day after day, until the dear little chickens were ready to come too."

"And wouldn't the hen get tired?" said Rosy. "I shouldn't like to stay still so long."

"No, I don't think you would," said her mamma, chucking her little girl under the chin; "but then, you see, you are like