"Ob course, Speckle, she habin' begun to lay fust, wuz de fust to want to set. She wuz allers a kinder forward young ting; an' as we wuz ompatient to hev some chickins,—an' I neber tort on't—I went an' sot her fust."
And here the speaker paused, and looked up at Alice, as if she had reached the point of the story.
"Well?" said Alice wonderingly, for she did not understand; "is she not doing well with the eggs, Winny?"
"Oh, lors, yes. She's a-doin' well enuff; but—"
"But what is the trouble, then? I do not see."
"Why, poor Brownie, ob course—don't yer see? Whose chicks will dey be, Alice?"
"Why Speckle's, of course," said Alice, "if she hatches them—won't they be?"
"Dere, dat's jest it; yes, I s'pose so. Dey'll be Speckle's chickins, an' dey didn't ought to be. Brownie, she laid dem eggs, an' now I've giv um to Speckle, an' I'll bet dat pert young ting she'll go a-troopin' round wid um, as proud as you please, right
