"He says they're dirty, because they've just come out of egg-shells! And he insists that the yellow on them is yolk-of-egg. I told him it wasn't, but he wouldn't listen to me." And Johnnie wrung her hands.
"Clover!" cried Katy, "won't you run down and ask Philly to come up to me? Speak pleasantly, you know!"
"I spoke pleasantly—real pleasantly, but it wasn't any use," said Johnnie, on whom the wrongs of the chicks had evidently made a deep impression.
"What a mischief Phil is getting to be!" said Elsie. "Papa says his name ought to be Pickle."
"Pickles turn out very nice sometimes, you know," replied Katy, laughing.
Pretty soon Philly came up, escorted by Clover. He looked a little defiant, but Katy understood how to manage him. She lifted him into her lap, which, big boy as he was, he liked extremely; and talked to him so affectionately about the poor little shivering chicks, that his heart was quite melted.
