“She’s so worried about her own affairs that she simply didn’t notice what I was talking about,” she thought.

Realizing that Aunt Judith’s mind was so full of her own interests that, for the time, she could think of nothing else, she dropped church matters, and asked when she had heard from Rose.

And while in the cool shade of the large trees, they talked of the tiny cottage, its garden, the chickens, and most of all, Rose, matters near the hen-coop were becoming rather lively.

Aunt Judith watching to see if Gyp intended to return, did not dream that he was watching her.

He saw her enter the cottage, and waited until she left the house to saunter down the avenue.

Then he ran across the little open field from the wood, and, crouching behind the back fence, near the coop, again waited until he felt sure that she was not simply in the house of some neighbor, but, instead, had gone to the “square.”

Then springing over the fence like a monkey, he told a few facts to the old rooster.

“Ye’re a mean ol’ thing!” he cried, “jest a mean ol’ critter ter bite a feller’s finger like ye did mine.  I’ll pay yer fer what ye done!  Look at this, an’ see how ye like it!”

At that moment, and to the utter astonishment of the rooster, and his family, Gyp sprang up and down in a series of wild jumps, shouting, and yelling to the limit of his strength.

“Yow-ow!  Hoope-high-jinks!” shrieked Gyp, his wiry arms, and legs flying in more directions than seemed possible, his shoes, that were many sizes too large for him, clattering on the hard-trodden earth of the hen-yard.

“How-re-ow-re-owl!” he roared, dodging this way, and that, in order to keep directly in front of the frightened rooster.

The rooster ducked, and dodged in vain, for Gyp managed to do his outrageous dance exactly in front of him, wherever he might be.

The hens kept up a perpetual squawking, and ran wildly about, while the downy chicks huddled in fear under the huge leaves of a burdock plant, and uttered little frightened peeps that, however, were unheard in the din that Gyp and the hens created.

Then suddenly something happened.

With a wild whoop, and an extra high jump, he lost his balance, and fell against the little gate.

He was not hurt, but he was surprised, and, for a moment, sat absolutely still, while the hens, led by the big rooster, ran over him, and out into the field beyond.

“I s’pose she’ll say I let ’em out.  I did, an’ I didn’t!” he said with a chuckle.

“Long’s they’re out, they might as well have a good run for once,” he cried, and shouting “Shoo!  Shoo!” and brandishing his arms, he rushed after them.

When he had tired of chasing the hens, he hurried away to the other end of the avenue, with the bright idea of learning if there might be a chance for mischief there.