"I guess," said Bettie, "it's some sort of a refrigerator to use on Sundays only."
"It looks to me," ventured Mabel, "like a cage with a monkey in it. I've seen them in processions, only they were fancier."
"I _know_ what it is," said Henrietta, "because we have one like it, but ours isn't as nice as this."
"Now turn your backs," requested Mrs. Crane.
In another moment the girls were listening to a delightful concert. Wonderful music was pouring from the polished cabinet.
"I was the nearest right," asserted Mabel.
"Why!" objected Bettie, "you said it was a monkey--monkeys don't sing."
"I was right, just the same. It's a hand organ, and everybody knows that a monkey's pretty near the same thing."
The girls laughed, for Mabel, who was usually wrong, always insisted obstinately that she was right.
"It's a phonograph," explained Henrietta, "and the very best one I ever heard."
"It's a whole brass band," breathed Bettie.
"I knew it was good," said Mrs. Crane, contentedly, "for Peter refused to tell what he paid for it."
It took a long time for the phonograph to give up all that was inside its polished case, and before the entertainment was quite over Mr. Black came in.
Bettie, eager to display her new acquaintance, hardly waited to greet him before introducing Henrietta. It was a pleasure, as well as a novelty, to have so attractive a friend to present.
"This," said Bettie, proudly but a little flustered, "is my hen, Frenriet--I mean, my hen----"
Bettie turned scarlet and stopped. The girls shrieked with delight. Mrs. Crane laughed till she cried. Mr. Black's roars of laughter drowned the phonograph's best effort.
"I'm _not_ your hen," giggled Henrietta. "Not even your chicken. This settles _that_ name--I can't risk being mistaken for any more poultry."
"She's Henrietta Bedford," explained Jean, wiping her eyes.
"And how long," teased Mr. Black, "have you been keeping poultry, Miss Bettykins?"
"About two weeks," giggled Bettie. "She's Mrs. Slater's granddaughter."
"I don't like to seem inhospitable," said Mr. Black, a few moments later, "but it's beginning to snow, and the weather's going to be a good deal worse before it gets any better. If you start now, you'll be home before the snow begins to drift--there's a strong north wind and the thermometer's a bit down-hearted."