"And she wants to know if you have any fresh eggs?"
"Fresh eggs. Hm! Hm! Fresh eggs. How many? I'll see."
"A dozen if you have them."
"Well, we'll have to go and find them, little girls. Who is the other
little girl?"
"My cousin," said Dimple.
"A Dallas?"
"No; her name is Florence Graham."
"Graham, Graham. A Dallas and a Graham. Come you two, then, and we'll
see if we can find any eggs."
They followed Mrs. Wills through the back room into the yard. The room
they passed through was very clean, and held a stove with a little tin
kettle on it, a bed with a patchwork quilt, a shining little table and
several chairs with flowers painted on them.
The yard was quite a curiosity, and seemed to be given up entirely to
pigeons and chickens, who made a great fuss, flying up on the old
woman's shoulder and pecking at her; while an old duck waddled solemnly
after, giving a quack once in a while to let them know she was there.
Mrs. Wills took them to the hen-house, and told them where to look for
eggs.
As Dimple had been there before, she knew where to look, and they soon
made up the dozen.
The old duck followed them into the house, and was waddling after them
into the shop, when Mrs. Wills with a "Shoo! Shoo!" drove her out.
"Now, Dallas girl, and Graham girl," said Mrs.
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