you with our troubles," said Aunt Polly, "but I see we can't hide a thing from your sharp eyes. I have bad news to tell you. While you were away with Peter this afternoon, and while Linda and I were in town, a miserable chicken thief got into the chicken yard and stole ever so many chickens. We don't know yet how many. And they took nearly every one of Linda's ducks. She has the ducks for her own, you know, and she uses the money for her school clothes. So that's why she's crying."
The four little Blossoms sat and stared at Aunt Polly. They had completely forgotten the chickens and ducks and the one lame turkey shut into the tent till this minute.
"Aunt Polly!" gasped Meg, in a very little voice. "Aunt Polly—please, we were just playing, and—and" Meg could not go on.
"We were playing Indians," said Bobby, coming to the rescue of his sister, "and we had to have some captives. So—so"
"We took the chickens and the ducks," went on the twins in concert.
"And the lame turkey," put in Meg.
