Mother Carey's Chickens
eight o'clock after all! Why, it's Mr. Thurston!"
Ralph Thurston came in blushing and smiling, glad to be welcomed, fearful of intruding, afraid of showing how much he liked to be there.
"Good-evening, all!" he said. "You see I could n't wait to thank you, Mrs. Carey! No storm could keep me away to-night."
"What has mother been doing, now?" asked Nancy. "Her right hand is forever busy, and she never tells her left hand a thing, so we children are always in the dark."
"It was nothing much," said Mrs. Carey, pushing the young man gently into the high-backed rocker. "Mrs. Harmon, Mrs. Popham, and I simply tried to show our gratitude to Mr. Thurston for teaching our troublesome children."
"How did you know it was my birthday?" asked Thurston.
"Did n't you write the date in Lallie Joy's book?"
"True, I did; and forgot it long ago; but I have never had my birthday noticed before, and I am twenty-four!"
"It was high time, then!" said Mother Carey with her bright smile.
"But what did mother do?" clamored Nancy, Kathleen and Gilbert in chorus.
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