MrRutherford's children . asgreat delight. How could it get up in that tree, UncleRuth? she said. I suppose the peacock roosted there lastnight. Way up in that tree ? Yes,—in fine weather they always roost in thetree-tops, and when it is going to rain they choosesome of the lower branches. But what made the peacock leave it there ?said Chryssa. I suppose it dropped out of his tail, saidMr. Rutherford smiling. I hope he dont want it, said Chryssa asshe stroked the long feather, for I like to haveit very much. He must do without it, said her uncle. Weshould be puzzled to put the feather back aga
MrRutherford's children . asgreat delight. How could it get up in that tree, UncleRuth? she said. I suppose the peacock roosted there lastnight. Way up in that tree ? Yes,—in fine weather they always roost in thetree-tops, and when it is going to rain they choosesome of the lower branches. But what made the peacock leave it there ?said Chryssa. I suppose it dropped out of his tail, saidMr. Rutherford smiling. I hope he dont want it, said Chryssa asshe stroked the long feather, for I like to haveit very much. He must do without it, said her uncle. Weshould be puzzled to put the feather back again,or to find the right bird. And a peacocks tail- 192 A LETTER AND AN ARRIVAL. feather is not much of a curiosity to himself,Chryssie. They went back to Rose Hill that day. Thetwo bantams in the coach-box, ia a most un-comfortable state of mind — the children full ofpleasure and talk. There was only one thing tobe regretted — Chryssa had left her feather atCleaveland. But as she remarked, she could get it CHAPTER XIII. THE CURIOSITY BOX, TT did not seem likely that the larger box would be soon needed. Collecting went on slowly. Whatever became of the dead butterflies they did not fall in Chryssas way, and she began9 iy4 THE CURIOSITY BOS. almost to doubt of ever finding any. To be sure,she did fiud a flying grasshopper lying on the walkone day, but he did not look near so pretty withhis yellow wings folded up and the brown oneslapped over them. He had lost one of his legstoo, so though Chryssa put him in her box shedid not think much of him. One morning as she stood in the grove whilethe chickens eat their breakfast, she saw on oneof the trees what seemed to be the wing of someinsect ; and looking nearer she found that therewas a little hole in the tree, and into this holethe insect had crept. It seemed to be dead, forit gave no heed to the gentle ascertaining poke3of Chryssas finger, and at length she carefullypulled it out. It was a curious kind of brownbug,
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