The rude mantelpiece were hung a sword, a brac

N in the hay-mow," said Betty, waving a small basket. "For a week that
old black hen has circumvented me, but at last I have conquered. I found
the nest in the farthest corner under the hay." "How did you get up in
the loft?" inquired Mrs. Zane. "Bessie, I climbed up the ladder of
course. I acknowledge being unusually light-hearted and happy this
morning, but I have not as yet grown wings. Sam said I could not climb
up that straight ladder, but I found it easy enough." "You should not
climb up into the loft," said Mrs. Zane, in a severe tone. "Only last
fall Hugh Bennet's little boy slid off the hay down into one of the
stalls and the horse kicked him nearly to death." "Oh, fiddlesticks,
Bessie, I am not a baby," said Betty, with vehemence. "There is not a
horse in the barn but would stand on his hind legs before he would step
on me,

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