THE NEW NESTS AND THE NEST EGGS
As might have been expected, the new poultry-house was no soonerfinished than the fowls began to discuss who should live in thedifferent parts. They could see no reason why they should not all runtogether, as they always had done. "Perhaps," the Black Hen had said,"the Man may put us all together and let the table's Chickens havepens to themselves."
"What?" said the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen, "put me in one pen and myChickens in another? That would never do."
"You forget," said the Shanghai Cock very gently, "that by winter-timethey will not need your care any more, and you will not wish to bewith them so much." And that was true, for no matter how fond a Henmay be of her tiny Chickens, she is certain to care less for themwhen they are grown.
All the fowls were quite sure that they should have the best pen andyard, because they had been the longest on the place. After they hadspoken of that, they had a great time in deciding which was the bestpen. Part of the fowls wanted to be in the end toward the road, sothat they could see all that went on there and look across to theother farm to watch their neighbors. The Cocks all preferred this.They liked excitement.
Some of the Hens wished to live in the pen next to the barn. "We arefond of the barn," they said. "We have been there so much, and havelaid so many eggs there that it seems like home. We know that it isnot so comfortable, but it seems like home."
However, the Cocks had their wish, and on the day when it was grantedthere was such a crowing from fence-tops as greatly puzzled the Man.He could not find anything in his books and papers to explain it,although he looked and looked and looked. At last one of the LittleGirls told him what she thought, and she was exactly right. "It soundsto me as though they were just happy," she said. You see the Man hadnot lived long enough on a farm to understand the language of poultryvery well, so he had much to learn. There are many people who thinkthemselves quite wise and yet cannot tell what one of a tiny Chicken'sfive calls means, and there are some Men, even some fathers (andfathers need to know more than anybody else in the world, exceptmothers) who do not know that a Cock can say at least nine differentthings with the same cry, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
This Man was a father and had been a school-teacher, too, so he wasnot an ignorant Man, and after his Little Girl said that he decided tolearn poultry-talk. It took some weeks, but you shall hear by and byhow well he succeeded.
The Man wanted to teach the Hens to lay in the new nests, so that hewould not have to spend much time in egg-hunting, and because hewished to be sure of finding the eggs as soon as they were laid.People should grow good as they grow old, you know, but it is not sowith the eggs. The Man did not want to shut the fowls in during thewarm weather, for then he would have to feed them more, and that wouldcost too much money, yet he opened this front pen with itsscratching-shed and yard, and fed them there every night. While theywere feeding he closed the outer gate, so that they could not go backto roost on the trees or wherever they chose. The perches werecomfortable, with room enough for all, and far enough apart so thatthose in the back rows did not have their bills brushed by the tailsof those in front.
The Hens who had Chickens were now kept in the second pen from this,and so were quite safe from prowling Weasels and other hunters. In thefront pen, you see, there were only full-grown fowls, and morning wasa busy time for most of the laying Hens. The gate was not opened untilthe sun was well up, and by that time many of the Hens had laid inone of the cosy nests under the perches, nests which were so wellroofed over that not even a pin-feather could have dropped into themfrom above. They were so very comfortable that even the Hens who didnot lay before leaving the pen were soon glad to come strolling backto it, instead of fluttering and scrambling to some lonely corner ofthe hayloft in the barn.
On the first morning that the fowls were shut in there, a very queerthing happened. The first Hen to go on a nest exclaimed, "Why, who washere ahead of me?"
Nobody answered, and the Hen asked again.
At last the Speckled Hen said, "I think you are the first one to laythis morning."
"The first one!" exclaimed the Black Hen, for it was she, as shebacked out onto the floor again. "You must not expect me to believethat I am the first when there is an egg in the nest already." As shespoke she pointed in with her bill, and the others came crowdingaround.
There lay a fine, large, and quite shiny egg. While they were stilllooking and wondering which Hen had laid it, the Brown Hen discoveredthat there was an egg in each of the six other nests. She was soexcited that for a minute she could hardly cackle. The Black Hen beganto look angry, and stood her feathers on end and shook herself in away that she had when she was much displeased. She was not agood-natured Hen.
"You think that you are very smart," she said, "but _I_ think that youare very silly. Every fowl here knows that I always like to be thefirst on the nest in the morning, and yet seven of you must have laidin the night to get ahead of me. I don't mind having an egg in thenest. Every Hen likes to find at least one there. It is the mean wayin which you tried to prevent my getting ahead of the rest of you."
The Hens insisted that they never took their feet from the perches allnight long, and the Speckled Hen, who was a very kind little person,tried to show the Black Hen that it was all a mistake of some sort."Perhaps they were laid in there yesterday," said she, "only we didnot notice them when we came in."
The Cocks kept still, although they looked very knowing. They did notwant to offend any of the Hens by taking sides. At last the Brown Henspoke. It always seemed that she made some trouble every time sheopened her bill. "I remember," said she, "that there was not an eggthere when I went to roost last night. The last thing I did beforeflying up onto my perch was to look in all the nests and try to decidewhich I preferred."
Then there was more trouble, and in the midst of it the Speckled Henhopped into one of the nests. "Sorry to get ahead of you," she saidpolitely to the Black Hen, "but the truth is that I feel like laying."She gave a little squawk as she brushed against the egg there. "It islight!" she cried. "It is light and slippery! None of us ever laidsuch an egg as that."
"Of course not," said one of the Cocks, who now saw his way to stopthe trouble. "Of course none of you lay that sort of eggs. I couldhave told you that long ago, if you had asked me."
When the fowls were all looking at each other and wondering what sortof creature it could be who had slipped in and laid the eggs there, atiny door in the outside wall, just back of one of the nests, wasopened, and the Man peeped in. All he saw was a number of fowlsstanding around and looking as though they had been very muchsurprised. Half of the Hens stood with one foot in the air. He droppedthe door, which was hinged at the top, and then the fowls looked ateach other again. It was a great comfort to them at times like theseto be able to look both ways at once. "The Man opened those littledoors while we were asleep, and put those eggs in," they said. "Theyare not Hens' eggs at all. Probably they are some that his tablelaid."
It was only a minute before all the nests were in use, and soon thenoise of puzzled and even angry clucking was replaced by the joyouscackling of Hens who felt that they had done their work for the day."Of course," said the Speckled Hen, "those eggs cannot be so good asthe ones we lay, but I do not mind the feeling of them at all. And Imust say that finding them already in a strange nest makes it seemmuch more homelike to me. This Man acts as though he really understoodHens and wanted to make them happy."
Tales of a Poultry Farm Page 7