and therefore it would be light and cheerful, as a kitchen ever should be, especially when the mistress of the house is cook.  There Mr. Jones and I set up the excellent stove that I had brought from New York—­one to which my wife was accustomed, and from which she could conjure a rare good dinner when she gave her mind to it.  Now as she moved back and forth, in such sunlight as the clouding sky permitted, she appeared the picture of pleased content.

“It cheers one up to enter a kitchen like this,” she said.

“It is to be your garden for a time also,” I exclaimed to Mousie.  “I shall soon have by this east window a table with shallow boxes of earth, and in them you can plant some of your flower-seeds.  I only ask that I may have two of the boxes for early cabbages, lettuce, tomatoes, etc.  You and your plants can take a sun-bath every morning until it is warm, enough to go out of doors, and you’ll find the plants won’t die here as they did in the dark, gas-poisoned city flat.”

“I feel as if I were going to grow faster and stronger than the plants,” cried the happy child.

Junior and Merton now appeared, each carrying a rabbit.  My boy’s face, however, was clouded, and he said, a little despondently, “I can’t shoot straight—­missed every time; and Junior shot ’em after I had fired and missed.”

“Pshaw!” cried Junior; “Merton’s got to learn to take a quick steady sight, like every one else.  He gets too excited.”

“That’s just it, my boy,” I said.  “You shall go down by the creek and fire at a mark a few times every day, and you’ll soon hit it every time.  Junior’s head is too level to think that anything can be done well without practice.  Now, Junior,” I added, “run over home and help your father bring us our dinner, and then you stay and help us eat it.”

Father and son soon appeared, well laden.  Winnie and Bobsey came in ravenous from their path-making, and all agreed that we had already grown one vigorous rampant Maizeville crop—­an appetite.

The pot-pie was exulted over, and the secret of its existence explained.  Even Junior laughed till the tears came as I described him, his father, and Merton, floundering through the deep snow after the rabbit, and we all congratulated Merton as the one who had provided our first country dinner.

CHAPTER XVI

MAKING A PLACE FOR CHICKENS

Before the meal was over, I said, seriously, “Now, boys, there must be no more hunting until I find out about the game-laws.  They should be obeyed, especially by sportsmen.  I don’t think that we are forbidden to kill rabbits on our own place, particularly when they threaten to be troublesome; and the hunt this morning was so unexpected that I did not think of the law, which might be used to make us trouble.  You killed the other rabbits on this place, Junior?”

“Yes, sir, both of ’em.”