"High time they were up!" quoth Miss Miller, as she went upstairs to rouse the girls.
But Zan, a true country girl, had been awake for some time and enjoyed the fresh morning breeze from her window.
"Did you make friends with Groutch?" asked she, as Miss Miller smiled a good-morning to her.
"Groutch who's Groutch?" pondered the teacher.
"Why, the old hen! She's always quarrelling with friends or family, so we named her Groutch," laughed Zan.
"Oh the hen! I wondered how she got there? Did you see me talking to her?" replied Miss Miller.
Zan laughed delightedly at an opportunity to correct the teacher. "No I saw you there but heard you talking!"
"One for you, Zan! That casts discredit on my early morning thinking apparatus, doesn't it?" said Miss Miller, laughing at her own expense. "But tell me did Bill bring the chickens?"
"Thereby hangs a tale," giggled Zan, turning her back and asking Nita to hook the centre of her dress-waist.
The other girls came in to hear a possible story, and Zan explained the presence of Groutch and her friends.
"Last summer Fiji had the chicken-raising fever and we let him have the carriage-house for his venture. He succeeded, too, but Fall came and we had to go back to the city. He had sold half his chickens to mother during the late summer, and wanted to sell the other half to friends in the city, but Daddy didn't like the idea of that. Finally, the butcher in Junction took all he had, and when it came time to deliver the chickens on our way home, not a sign of Groutch and the three other hens could we find! We had to leave with only the spring chickens. A day after we got home Bill Sherwood wrote Fiji that the hens all came back to roost outside the house the same night. Fiji wrote for him to take them to the butcher the first time he went
to Junction. And, Miss Miller, you can believe me or not, those hens skiddooed every time Bill Sherwood planned to catch them! After several vain trials, he sent word to Fiji that he was done with chicken chasing! How we laughed at that letter!"
"How remarkable! And I never gave chickens credit for any intelligence!" said Miss Miller.
"No, and most folks think they are stupid things; why, you know the slang saying, 'crazy as a hen,'" added Nita.
"Well, they're not! Why, that Groutch wouldn't even go to live in Bill's chicken coop with his flock. No siree! She just sulked about here until Bill had to open the carriage house for her to make her nest again. Then, he cut a small opening near the door so she could get in and out when the door was locked. In the next day or two, Bill missed the other hens from his chicken-house where they had been contented. And what do you think! That sly old hen had gone after them and led them back to their original home and there they've stayed ever since! Whenever we come down to visit the farm those daffy old hens cluck and wriggle about Fiji's feet as if he were the Prince and they his subjects!"
"I think that is lovely! To think of those hens showing their joy and recognition that way!" exclaimed Miss Miller, amazed.
"Daddy says that Fiji has the true Nature instinct, for every animal he meets seems to know him instantly and show a regard for him," added Zan.
"I have always wished that I had that great gift! It can be cultivated with great sincerity and love for Nature, but some are gifted with it unconsciously!" sighed Miss Miller.
The four girls had listened to Zan's tale with wonderment, and as Miss Miller remembered the breakfast, and said it was waiting, Jane said, "We should have missed this in the Adirondacks."
"I see many beauties we would have missed had we gone far off to the mountains! One of them is the lowly and silent lesson under Elena's feet," said Miss Miller.
All eyes looked down at the floor but saw nothing beside the braided mat. Miss Miller smiled and ran down-stairs without vouchsafing an explanation.
"Miss Miller certainly does puzzle me until she deigns to explain then it all seems plain as day!" said Hilda.
But further talk was interrupted by a delighted cry from the front porch. The five girls hurried down and joined their teacher on the porch.
"Why strawberries! How did they get here?" cried some of the girls.
"A note on top of one box said that Mrs. Sherwood sent them over for our breakfast if we had not finished already!" laughed Miss Miller, looking at her watch.
"It must be almost eight o'clock!" ventured Nita.
"No, it is five to six!" replied Miss Miller.
"Six why it feels like noon!" said Jane.
"That's because the air is so invigorating," returned Zan. "We always have to get up early in the country, and that gives you such a long, long day to enjoy!"
"I suppose Sherwoods rise at four," Miss Miller said.
"Dear no! Why four o'clock is almost midnight! Why should any one wish to get up at that dreadful hour!" cried Nita, horror-struck at such habits.
"Because country folks retire with the sun and rise with it that's what all true Indians do, and so will we presently," said Miss Miller, smiling at the various expressions on the faces about her.