Tales of a Poultry Farm

by Clara Dillingham Pierson

  THE FARM IS SOLD

  "You stupid creature!" cackled the Brown Hen, as she scrambled out ofthe driveway. "Don't you know any better than to come blundering alongwhen a body is in the middle of a fine dust bath? How would you liketo have me come trotting down the road, just as you were nicelysprawled out in it with your feathers full of dust? I think you wouldsquawk too!"

  The Brown Hen drew her right foot up under her ruffled plumage andturned her head to one side, looking severely at Bobs and Snip as theybacked the lumber wagon up to the side porch. "I say," she repeated,"that you would squawk too!"

  The Brown Hen's friends had been forced to run away when she did, butthey had already found another warm place in the dust and wererolling and fluttering happily there. "Come over here," they called toher. "This is just as good a place as the other. Come over and wallowhere."

  "No!" answered the Brown Hen, putting down her right foot and drawingup her left. "No! My bath is spoiled for to-day. There is no use intrying to take comfort when you are likely to be run over any minute."She turned her head to the other side and looked severely at Bobs andSnip with that eye. The Brown Hen prided herself on her way of lookingsternly at people who displeased her. She always wished, however, thatshe could look at them with both eyes at once. She thought that ifthis were possible she could stop their nonsense more quickly.

  Snip could not say anything just then. He was trying to be polite, andit took all his strength. He was young and wanted to have a good Horselaugh. He could not help thinking how a Horse would look covered withfeathers and sprawling in the middle of the road. Of course the BrownHen had not meant it in exactly that way, but was as unlucky as mostpeople are when they lose their tempers, and amused the very peoplewhom she most wanted to scold.

  Bobs was a steady old gray Horse, and he was used to the Brown Hen. "Iam sorry that we had to disturb you," he said pleasantly. "You lookedvery comfortable and I tried to turn out, but the Farmer held thelines so tightly that I could not. The bit cut into my mouth until Icould not stand it. You see he wanted to back the wagon up right here,and so he couldn't let us turn out. We'll do better next time if wecan."

  The Brown Hen let both her feet down and took a few steps forward. "Ifyou couldn't help it, of course I won't say anything more," sheremarked, and walked off.

  "P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p!" said Snip, blowing the air out between his lips."Why did you bother to tell her that? She is so fussy and cross abouteverything that I wouldn't tell her I was sorry. Why doesn't she justfind another place, as the other Hens do?"

  "Snip," said Bobs, "I used to talk in that way when I was a Colt, butI find that it makes things a good deal pleasanter around the place ifI take a little trouble to say 'I am sorry' when I have to disturbpeople. You know how the Farmer does at noon? He comes into the stallwhen I have finished my dinner, and he gives me a pat and says, 'Comealong, old fellow. We'd rather be lazy, but we have to work.' Do youthink I'd hang back then? I tell you when I want to balk. It is whenthe Hired Man leads me out with a jerk. That makes me kick."

  "I wonder if she will take her dust bath now?" said Snip.

  "Oh no," answered Bobs. "Any other Hen on the farm would, but theBrown Hen will not. She will stalk around all day thinking what a hardtime she has and talking about it, but she won't take her dust bath,not although every other fowl on the place should wallow beside her."

  "Then I don't see what good it did for you to tell her you weresorry," said Snip, who never liked to confess that he was wrong.

  "It did a lot of good," said Bobs, steadily. "Before that she wasfussy and cross. Now she is only fussy. Besides, I really had to saysomething to her, and if it had not been pleasant it would have had tobe unpleasant, and then there would have been two cross people insteadof one. Quite likely there would have been even more before the daywas over, for if each of us had gone on being cross we would have mademore of our friends cross, and there is no telling where it would haveended. I'd feel mean, anyhow, if I lost my temper with a Hen. Imaginea great big fellow like me getting cross with a little creature likeher, who has only two legs, and can't get any water into her stomachwithout tipping her head back for each billful."

  Snip had wanted to ask many more questions, but so much began tohappen that he quite forgot about the Brown Hen. The Farmer and theHired Man had gone into the house, and now they came out, carrying acook-stove between them. This they put into the wagon, covering itwith rag carpet. The Farmer's Wife came to the door with rolled-upsleeves and a towel tied over her head. She looked tired but happy. Inher hands she carried the legs of the stove, which she tucked into theoven.

  This was a great event to happen on the quiet farm. Brown Bess and hernew Calf came close to the fence which separated their pasture fromthe driveway, and stood looking on. The Pigs and their mother pressedhard against the walls of their pen on the two sides from whichanything could be seen. Each of the nine Pigs thought that he had thepoorest place for peeping, so he wriggled and pushed and pushed andwriggled to get a better one, and it ended in none of them seeinganything, because they were not still long enough. Their mother, beingso much taller than they, had a crack all to herself and could seevery well. "I don't understand why they want to do that," she sighed,as she lay down for another nap. "It was after the snow came thatthey brought the stove out here. But you can never tell what thepeople who live in houses and wear clothing will do next! They reallyseem to like to pick things up and carry them around. They are sosilly."

  The Gander came along with his wife and the other Geese. He ate grasswhile they visited with the Hens in the road. The Hens told him allthey knew, even what the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen had seen when shewalked along the porch and peeped in at the open kitchen door. Thenthe Geese waddled back to where the Gander was and told him all theHens had told them. He listened to it, asking a good many questions,and then said that it was just like Geese to be so interested in otherpeople's business. That made them feel quite ashamed, so they ate alittle grass to make themselves feel better, and then stood around towatch the loading of the wagon.

  Besides the stove, the kitchen and dining-room furniture was put in,with a few of the largest plants from the sitting-room, and when theFarmer drove off he had the clock beside him on the seat, the churnbetween his knees, and a big bundle of some sort on his lap.

  It suddenly seemed very dull on the farm. One of the Doves flew alongabove the team for a while and brought back the news that they hadturned toward town. There was nothing now to be done but to wait untilthey returned and then ask as many questions as possible of theHorses.

  "I believe that the family is going to move into town," said the WhiteCock, who always expected sad things to happen. Even when there wasnot a cloud in the sky, he was sure that it would rain the next day.That was probably because he was careless about what he ate. TheShanghai Cock said that he did not take half gravel enough, and anysensible fowl will tell you that he cannot be truly happy unless heeats enough gravel.

  "What will ever become of us," asked the Hens, "if the family moves totown? It is their business to stay here and take care of us."

  "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed the Young Cock. "Let them go. I can have agood enough time in the fields finding my own food."

  The Pullets looked at him admiringly. "But who will take care of us?"they asked.

  "I will," said he, holding his head very high. And that was exactlywhat they wanted him to say, although each of them would rather havehad him say it to her alone.

  "There will be nobody left to set traps for the Rats and the Weasels,"said an old Hen, who had seen much of the ways of poultry-yards. "Andif our Chickens have the gapes, who will make horse-hair loops andpull the little Worms out of their throats? I have always said that itwas well to have people living in the farmhouse."

  "Well," said the Brown Hen, "I hope that if they go they will take theHorses with them. There is no pleasure in life when one is all thetime afraid of being run over. You know what happened this morning,when I had started to take
my dust bath. I spoke to the Horses aboutit afterward, and Bobs was very polite, but that didn't give me thebath which he and that silly young Snip had spoiled. And I do not feelat all like myself without a bath."

  "Take it now then," said the Shanghai Cock, who never bothered to bepolite. "You ought to be able to get it in while the team is going totown and back."

  "No," said the Brown Hen, firmly, "it is too far past the time when Ishould have taken it. I was never one of those Hens who can wallowfrom morning until night. I need my bath and I ought to have it, butwhen I have been kept from it so long I simply have to go without it."

  The other Hens said nothing. In nearly every poultry-yard there is onefowl who is so fussy as to make everybody else uncomfortable. The restbecome used to it after a while and do not answer back when she talksso.

  In the house, the Farmer's Wife was hurrying to and fro, showing theHired Man where to put this or calling him to lift that, and everylittle while something else would be brought out and placed on theside porch. Once a basket of wax fruit was set on a table there. Theglass which usually covered it was put to one side, and the Young Cockwho had promised to care for the Pullets flew up to peck at it. Heknew it was not right, but he got one hurried billful from the side ofthe reddest peach just as the Hired Man threw an old shoe at him.

  "How does it taste?" cried the Geese, who were still hanging around tofind out what they could. The Young Cock did not reply, but wiped hisbill on the grass for a long time. He feared he would never be able toopen it again. The peaches which he had eaten the fall before had notstuck his bill together in this way, and he was now more sure thanever that the people who lived in houses did not know very much. "Suchfruit should be thrown away," he said. "It must be eating suchpeaches as this which keeps the Boy chewing so much of the time. Ihave watched him, and he carries something in his mouth which he chewsand chews and chews, but never swallows. Once his mother made himthrow it away, and I should think she would. He waggled his jaws verymuch like a Cow." Then he strolled off toward the woods to get awayfrom the other fowls.

  In the middle of the afternoon the team came back drawing the emptywagon. All the poultry came sauntering toward the barn, making excusesas they came. "Too hot out in the sunshine," said the Brown Hen. "Ireally cannot stand it any longer."

  "The Geese would come up to the barn," said the Gander, "so I thoughtI might as well come along."

  "Shouldn't wonder if they would throw out some corn when they getthrough unharnessing," said the Gobbler.

  The Ducks never kept up with the others, and they were close to thehouse when Bobs and Snip stopped there. "How very lucky!" theyquacked, for they were a truthful family and not given to makingexcuses. "We hope you will tell us what all this means. Are theFarmer's people moving away?"

  "They are," replied Bobs, who was always good about giving a directanswer to a direct question. "You know the children have been stayingin town to go to school ever since last fall, and now their father hassold the farm and is moving into town to be with them."

  "Will they take us into town?" asked the Drake.

  "Guess not," said Snip. "They are to live over a store."

  By this time the disappointed ones who had been waiting in the barncame hurrying along toward the house, where the wagon was being filledonce more. It did not take long for the Ducks to tell the news, andthen there was great excitement, very great indeed. Brown Bess heardit and licked her Calf more tenderly than ever. She knew that theycould not live over a store, and she wondered what would become ofthem both.

  In the Pig-pen the little Pigs were teasing their mother to tell whowould bring them their food. It was enough to make her lose herpatience to have nine children all asking questions at the same time,and each saying "Why?" every time that he was given an answer. So itis not to be wondered at that she finally became cross and lay down inthe corner with her back to them, pretending to be asleep. To tell thetruth, she herself was somewhat worried. She had often called theFarmer's family silly, but she had not minded their habit of carryingthings around, when the things that they carried were pails full ofdelicious food and they were carrying them to the Pig-pen.

  It was the poultry who talked the longest about the change, andperhaps this was partly because there were so many of them to talk.Poultry have a very happy time on small farms like this one. It istrue that they did not have a good house of their own, and they hadbut little attention paid to them, yet when the cold winter was oncepast, there was all the lovely spring, summer, and fall weather inwhich to be happy. They were not kept in a yard, going wherever theychose, finding plenty to eat, and having no cares, excepting that whena Hen felt like it she laid an egg. She laid it wherever she chose,too, and this was usually somewhere in the barn or woodshed. SometimesHens wanted to sit, and then they came off after a while with broodsof Chickens. When a Hen had done that, she was usually caught and putunder a coop for a few days. She never liked that part of it, and theothers always told her that if she would hatch out Chickens she mightknow what to expect.

  The winters were bad, but then the poultry spent their whole time intrying to be comfortable and hardly ever bothered to lay eggs, so itwas an easy life after all. No wonder that they talked about thechange until after they went to roost. Although the Farmer was not athrifty man, he had been kind enough to the creatures on the farm,and they did not want to go away or belong to any one else.

  The last word spoken was by a black Hen. She was not Black Spanish orblack anything-in-particular. In fact, there was only one of the Henswho knew to what breed she belonged. That was the Barred Plymouth RockHen, and it made her very proud. The Black Hen had a temper, and hadeven been known to peck at the Farmer's Wife. "Do you know what I willdo if a new Farmer tries to make me lay my eggs where he wishes?" shesaid. "I may have to lay the eggs there, but I will smash every one ofthem if I do."