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hands over her white apron。 〃They are looking beautiful this morning。
I am so fond of potted plants； of plants in pots。 Look at these geraniums！
Now； I consider that pink one a perfect bloom； yes； a perfect bloom。 This
is a fine red one； is it not； miss？ Especially fine； don't you think？ The
trouble with the red variety is that they're apt to get 〃bobby〃 and have to
be washed regularly； quite bobby they do get indeed； I assure you。 That
white one has just gone out of blossom； and it was really wonderful。 You
could 'ardly have told it from a paper flower； miss； not from a white paper
flower。 My plants are my children nowadays； since Albert Edward is my
only care。 I have been the mother of eleven children； miss； all of them
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living； so far as I know； I know nothing to the contrary。 I 'ope you are
not wearying of this solitary place； miss？ It will grow upon you； I am
sure； as it did upon Mrs。 Pollock； with all her peculiar fancies； and as it 'as
grown upon us。We formerly had a butcher's shop in Buffington； and it
was naturally a great responsibility。 Mr。 Heaven's nerves are not strong；
and at last he wanted a life of more quietude； more quietude was what he
craved。 The life of a retail butcher is a most exciting and wearying one。
Nobody satisfied with their meat； as if it mattered in a world of change！
Everybody complaining of too much bone or too little fat； nobody wishing
tough chops or cutlets； but always seeking after fine joints； when it's
against reason and nature that all joints should be juicy and all cutlets
tender； always complaining if livers are not sent with every fowl； always
asking you to remember the trimmin's； always wanting their beef well 'ung；
and then if you 'ang it a minute too long； it's left on your 'ands！ I often
used to say to Mr。 Heaven； yes many's the time I've said it； that if people
would think more of the great 'ereafter and less about their own little
stomachs； it would be a deal better for them； yes； a deal better； and make it
much more comfortable for the butchers！〃
* * *
Burd Alane has had a good quarter of an hour to…day。
His spouse took a brief promenade with him。 To be sure； it was
during an absence of the flock on the other side of the hedge so that the
moral effect of her spasm of wifely loyalty was quite lost upon them。 I
strongly suspect that she would not have granted anything but a secret
interview。 What a petty； weak； ignoble character！ I really don't like to
think so badly of any fellow… creature as I am forced to think of that politic；
time…serving； pusillanimous goose。 I believe she laid the egg that
produced the idiot gosling！
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The Diary of a Goose Girl
CHAPTER IX
Here follows the true story of Sir Muscovy Drake； the Lady Blanche；
and Miss Malardina Crippletoes。
Phoebe's flock consisted at first mostly of Brown Mallards； but a
friend gave her a sitting of eggs warranted to produce a most beautiful
variety of white ducks。 They were hatched in due time； but proved hard
to raise； till at length there was only one survivor； of such uncommon
grace and beauty that we called her the Lady Blanche。 Presently a
neighbour sold Phoebe his favourite Muscovy drake； and these two
splendid creatures by 〃natural selection〃 disdained to notice the rest of the
flock； but forming a close friendship； wandered in the pleasant paths of
duckdom together； swimming and eating quite apart from the others。
In the brown flock there was one unfortunate； misshapen from the egg；
quite lame； and with no smoothness of plumage； but on that very account；
apparently； or because she was too weak to resist them； the others treated
her cruelly； biting her and pushing her away from the food。
One day it happened that the two ducksSir Muscovy and Lady
Blanchehad come up from the water before the others； and having taken
their repast were sitting together under the shade of a flowering currant…
bush； when they chanced to see poor Miss Crippletoes very badly used
and crowded away from the dish。 Sir Muscovy rose to his feet； a few
rapid words seemed to pass between him and his mate； and then he fell
upon the other drake and the heartless minions who had persecuted the
helpless one； drove them far away out of sight； and； returning； went to the
corner where the victim was cowering； her face to the wall。 He seemed
to whisper to her； or in some way to convey to her a sense of protection；
for after a few moments she tremblingly went with him to the dish； and
hurriedly ate her dinner while he stood by； repulsing the advances of the
few brown ducks who remained near and seemed inclined to attack her。
When she had eaten enough Lady Blanche joined them； and they went
down the hill together to their favourite swimming…place。 After that Miss
Crippletoes always followed a little behind her protectors； and thus
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shielded and fed she grew stronger and well… feathered； though she was
always smaller than she should have been and had a lowly manner；
keeping a few steps in the rear of her superiors and sitting at some distance
from their noon resting… place。
Phoebe noticed after a while that Lady Blanche was seldom to be seen；
and Sir Muscovy and Miss Crippletoes often came to their meals without
her。 The would…be mother refused to inhabit the house Phoebe had given
her； and for a long time the place she had chosen for her sitting could not
be found。 At length the Square Baby discovered her in a most ideal spot。
A large boulder had dropped years ago into the brook that fills our duck…
pond； dropped and split in halves with the two smooth walls leaning away
from each other。 A grassy bank towered behind； and on either side of the
opening； tall bushes made a miniature forest where the romantic mother
could brood her treasures while her two guardians enjoyed the water close
by her retreat。
All this happened before my coming to Thornycroft Farm； but it was I
who named the hero and heroines of the romance when Phoebe had told
me all the particulars。 Yesterday morning I was sitting by my open
window。 It was warm； sunny； and still； but in the country sounds travel
far； and I could hear fowl conversation in various parts of the poultry…yard
as well as in all the outlying bits of territory occupied by our feathered
friends。 Hens have only three words and a scream in their language； but
ducks； having more thoughts to express； converse quite fluently； so
fluently； in fact； that it reminds me of dinner at the Hydropathic Hotel。 I
fancy I have learned to distinguish seven separate sounds； each varied by
degrees of intensity； and with upward or downward inflections like the
Chinese tongue。
In the distance； then； I heard the faint voice of a duck calling as if
breathless and excited。 While I wondered what was happening； I saw
Miss Crippletoes struggling up the steep bank above the duck… pond。 It
was the quickest way from the water to the house； but difficult for the little
lame webbed feet。 When she reached the level grass sward she sank
down a moment； exhausted； but when she could speak again she cried out；
a sharp staccato call； and ran forward。
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Instantly she was answered from a distant knoll； where for some
reason Sir Muscovy loved to retire for meditation。 The cries grew lower