About this time the defrauded fowl flew from her nest and attempted to get out by her rightful exit.  Finding it stopped up by a wriggling, squirming body she perched herself on the little boy’s neck and flapped her enraged wings in his face.

“Pull!” yelled the child again, “help me th’oo, Billy, ’fore this fool chicken pecks all the meat off ’m my bones.”

Billy grabbed the sticky limbs and gave a valiant tug, but the body did not move an inch.  Alas, Jimmy with his cargo of broken eggs was fast imprisoned.

“Pull again!” yelled the scared and angry child, “you ’bout the idjetest idjet they is if you can’t do no better ’n that.”

Billy jerked with all his strength, but with no visible result.

“Pull harder!  You no-count gump!” screamed the prisoner, beating off the hen with his hands.

The boy on the outside, who was strong for his years, braced himself and gave a mighty wrench of the other child’s stout extremities.  Jimmy howled in pain and gave his friend an energetic kick.

“Lemme go!” he shrieked, “you old impe’dunt backbiter.  I’m going to tell Miss Minerva you pulled my legs out by the roots.”

A small portion of the prisoner’s blouse was visible.  Billy caught hold of it and gave a strong jerk.  There was a sound of ripping and tearing and the older boy fell sprawling on his back with a goodly portion of the younger child’s raiment in his hands.

“Now see what you done,” yelled the victim of his energy, “you ain’t got the sense of a buffalo gnat.  Oh! oh!  This hole is ’bout to cut my stomach open.”

“Hush, Jimmy!” warned the other child.  “Don’t make so much noise.  Aunt Minerva’ll hear you.”

“I want her to hear me,” screamed Jimmy.  “You’d like me to stay stuck in a chicken hole all night.  Oh! oh! oh!”

The noise did indeed bring Billy’s aunt out on a tour of investigation.  She had to knock a plank off the hen-house with an axe before Jimmy’s release could be accomplished.  He was lifted down, red, angry, sticky, and perspiring, and was indeed a sight to behold.

“Billy got to all time perpose something to get little boys in trouble,” he growled, “and got to all time get ’em stuck in a hole in a chicken-house.”

“My nephew’s name is William,” corrected she.

“You perposed this here yo’self!” cried an indignant Billy.  “Me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln don’ know nothin’ ’t all ’bout no rabbit’s eggs sence we’s born.”

“It doesn’t matter who proposed it,” said his aunt firmly.  “You are going to be punished, William.  I have just finished one of your night-shirts.  Come with me and put it on and go to bed.  Jimmy, you go home and show yourself to your mother.”

“Pick up yo’ shirt-tail offer the groun’ what I tore off, Jimmy,” advised Billy, “an’ take it home to yo’ ma.  Aunt Minerva,” he pleaded, following mournfully behind her, “please don’t put me to bed; the Major he don’ go to bed no daytimes; I won’t never get me no mo’ eggs to make rabbit’s eggs outer.”