VERY early in the morning Mary Frances awoke and listened a long time for Feather Flop’s signal, but not a sound was to be heard except the faint crowing of a distant rooster at the far end of the village.
“I expect he crowed before I was awake,” concluded Mary Frances, as she quickly dressed and went down-stairs on tiptoe.
The sun was just getting up as she ran out into the garden.
“Hello, Feather Flop,” she called softly as she hurried along, but there was not a sight or sound of Mr. Rooster.
“Mercy,” she thought, “I hope nothing’s happened to him. Where can he be? Oh, see, he’s dug—let me count,” (counting them off) “eighteen holes! My, it must have tired him out.”
“But where can he be?” she went on, and called again and again as loudly as she dared:
“Feather Flop!”
“Feather Flop!”
“FEATHER FLOP!”
“Oh, maybe he’s in my play house!” she suddenly thought and ran to look. And there he was—where do you think? Fast asleep in one of the doll’s beds with the covers tucked close up under his bill!
“Well, you’re a funny kind of a gardener,” laughed Mary Frances as soon as she recovered from her astonishment. “Here it is long past crowing time.”
Feather Flop turned over. Then he began to mutter sleepily:
“I don’t care what people say,I shan’t get up and crow to-day;I’ve never laid in bed—so then!I shall not crow till half-past ten—to-night!”
“I don’t care what people say,I shan’t get up and crow to-day;I’ve never laid in bed—so then!I shall not crow till half-past ten—to-night!”
“I don’t care what people say,
I shan’t get up and crow to-day;
I’ve never laid in bed—so then!
I shall not crow till half-past ten—to-night!”
“Oh, Feather Flop!” cried Mary Frances. “Oh, Feather Flop! How you disappoint me! Why, I’ve gotten up early because you promised to help in my garden! Come, get up!” going toward the bed.
“Excuse me!” exclaimed Feather Flop, hopping out of bed. “Excuse my bad manners, dear Miss,”and away he ran out the door and into the garden before Mary Frances could catch up.
“My, but you can dress quickly, Feather Flop,” she called.
“Oh, nothing like having your clothes grow on you,” answered Feather Flop, lifting his wings, “especially if they are pretty.”
Mary Frances laughed. “Come, come, no conceited remarks, please,” she chided; “and now to work.”
“It takes longer than you’d think,” said Feather Flop, beginning to scratch, “especially with an empty stomach.”
“How dreadful of me not to think of your breakfast, Feather Flop,” she said, and ran to get some corn.
“Thanks, thanks,” said Feather Flop, hungrily eating. “If they only didn’t keep the food locked up, I could help myself, and not have to trouble anybody.”
“Well, this is not gardening,” he went on; “and besides, I want my dessert. I had splendid luck yesterday—four hundred and fifty-one grubs I ate, and several score of nice long worms. Besides, I let Robin Redbreast have a hundred or so.”
“Oh, my,” shuddered Mary Frances.
“What’s the matter?” asked Feather Flop, looking up. “You didn’t want any, did you? I’d have been delighted to have saved some for you.”
“Oh, my, no!” cried Mary Frances. “Oh, no, thank you! No!”
“You’re sure?” inquired Feather Flop. “Well, you must certainly be glad they are not left here in the garden to eat up your plants, I know.”
“Indeed! I’m much obliged, Feather Flop,” said Mary Frances. “While you dig, I’m going into the house to get some seeds, and to plan out my garden.”
“All right!” said Feather Flop. “Don’t mention me, please, to——you know.”