"Is that—is that better than a summer one?" faltered Bettie, cautiously. "You see it's summer now."
"Perhaps," suggested Mabel, seized with a bright thought, "an August one"
"Here, Schon!" shouted the busy butcher to his assistant, "you pring oudt three-four schicken. You can pick von oudt vile I vaits on dese odder gostomer."
"I think," said Jean, indicating one of the fowls John had produced for her inspection, "that that's about the right size. It's so small and smooth that it ought to be tender."
"I wouldn't take that one, Miss," cautioned honest John, under his breath, "it looks to me like a little old bantam rooster. Leave it to me and I'll find you a good one."
To his credit, John was as good as his word.
The little housekeepers felt very important indeed, when, later in the day, a procession of genuine grocery wagons, drawn
