a-keepin' me busy all night. Fact is, I 'low I is got 'bout fifteen s'prises fer you."
"Fifteen! Why Aunt Pearly Gates, what can it be?"
"Well, I done hatched out in the night. Fo'teen of 'em air done come th'ough an' I hear a lil' soun' under the kivers that done give me a feelin' that the las' an' the fifteenth air been a bawn."
The old woman put her hand carefully under the quilt and drew forth a little black chicken. A bit of shell was stuck to its head, giving it a comical resemblance to a clown in a white cap. She raised the corner of an old woolen skirt, covering a box on a chair beside her bed and immediately a deafening peeping began.
"Oh, please let me hold it," begged Rebecca, clapping her hands in delight. "I never saw anything so cute in my life. I didn't even know you were er—er—setting, Aunt Pearly Gates."
The old woman smiled, delighted that her surprise had dispelled the sadness depicted on the child's face.
"Let the lil' chick'n git kinder useter livin' fust, honey baby, befo' you take ter fondlin' it; then you kin hol' it all you want jes' so's you don't squeeze it none. I 'lowed you didn' know
