Aunt Jo’s Scrap-Bag Vol. 1

wanted, she ran back to the barn, and was innocently catching gnats when
her mamma came out of the hay-mow with a loud. 'Cut-cut-cut-ca-dar-cut!'

'Where is Peep?' asked Mrs. Cluck.

'Don't know, ma. She'--there Peck stopped suddenly, rolled up her eyes,
and began to stagger about as if she was tipsy.

'Mercy on us! What's the matter with the chick?' cried Mrs. Cluck, in
great alarm.

'Fits, ma'am,' answered Doctor Drake, who just then waddled by.

'Oh! what can I do?' screamed the distracted hen.

'Nothing, ma'am; it's fatal.' And the doctor waddled on to visit Dame
Partlet's son, who was ill of the pip.

'My child, my child! don't flap and stagger so! Let me hold you! Taste
this mint-leaf! Have a drop of water! What shall I do?'

As poor Mrs. Cluck sighed and sobbed, her unhappy child went scuffling
about on her back, gasping and rolling up her eyes in great anguish, for
she had eaten too much of the fatal salt, and there was no help for her.
When all was over they buried the dead chicken under a currant bush,
covered the little grave with chickweed, and the bereaved parent wore a
black string round her leg for a month.

Blot, 'the last of that bright band,' needed no mourning for she was as