Tales of a Poultry Farm

by Clara Dillingham Pierson

  THE FOWLS HAVE A JOKE PLAYED ON THEM

  When the Man first bought the farm and came to live there, he couldnot understand a thing that his poultry said. This made it very hardfor him, and was something which he could not learn from his books andpapers. You remember how the Little Girls understood, better than he,what the Cocks meant by crowing so joyfully one day. It is often truethat children who think much about such things and listen carefullycome to know what fowls mean when they talk.

  The Man was really a very clever one, much more clever than the Farmerwho had lived there before him, and he decided that since he was tospend much of his time among poultry, he would learn to understandwhat they were saying. He began to listen very carefully and tonotice what they did when they made certain sounds. It is quitesurprising how much people can learn by using their eyes and earscarefully, and without asking questions, too.

  That was why, before the summer was over, the Man could tell quitecorrectly, whenever a fowl spoke, whether he was hungry or happy orangry or scared. Not only these, but many other things he could tellby carefully listening. He could not understand a Hen in exactly theway in which her Chickens understand her, but he understood wellenough to help him very much in his work. Then he tried talking thepoultry language. That was much harder, yet he kept on trying, for hewas not the sort of Man to give up just because the task was hard. Hehad been a teacher for many years, and he knew how much can be done bystudying hard and sticking to it.

  The Man was very full of fun, too, since he had grown so strong andfat on the farm. He dearly loved a joke, and was getting ready toplay a very big joke on some of his poultry.

  Anybody who has ever kept Hens knows how hard it is to drive them intothe poultry-house when they do not wish to go. People often run untilthey are quite out of breath and red in the face, trying to make evenone Hen go where she should. Sometimes they throw stones, and this isvery bad for the Hens, for even if they are not hit, they arefrightened, and then the eggs which they lay are not so good.Sometimes, too, the people who are trying to drive Hens lose theirtemper, and this is one of the very worst things that could happen.

  The poultry had not paid much attention to the Man when he waslearning their language. They were usually too busy talking to eachother to listen to what he was saying. Once the Shanghai Cock saidwhat he thought of it, however: "Just hear him!" he had said. "Hearthat Man trying to crow! He does it about as well as a Hen would."

  You know a Hen tries to crow once in a while, and then the Cocks allpoke fun at her, because she never succeeds well. All this happenedbefore the Man had been long on the farm, and before the Shanghai Cockhad learned to like him. The Shanghai Cock would have been very muchsurprised if anybody had then told him that he would ever be unable totell the Man's voice from that of one of his best friends.

  Throughout the summer the fowls who had always lived on the farm wereallowed to run wherever they wished during the day, and were notdriven into the pen at night. There was always some corn scattered intheir own yard for them just before roosting-time, and they were gladenough to stroll in and get it. When they finished eating they weresure to find the outer gate closed, and then they went inside the pento roost. Now, however, the days were growing much shorter and thenights cooler, and a Skunk had begun prowling around after dark. TheMan decided that if he wanted to keep his poultry safe, he must havethem in the pens quite early and shut all the openings through whicha night-hunting animal might enter to catch them. He liked to attendto this before he ate his own supper, and the poultry did not wish togo to roost quite so early. They often talked of it as they ate theirsupper in the yard.

  "I think," said the Brown Hen, "that something should be done to stopthe Man's driving us into the pen before we are ready to go. It isvery annoying."

  "Annoying?" said the White Cock, who was a great friend of hers. "Ishould say it is annoying! I hadn't half eaten my supper last nightwhen I heard him saying, 'Shoo! Shoo!' and saw him and the LittleGirls getting ready to drive us in."

  "Well, you might better eat a little faster the next time," said theBlack Hen. "I saw you fooling around when you might have been eating,and then you grumbled because you hadn't time to finish your supper."

  "I would rather fool around a little than to choke on a big mouthful,the way you did," replied the White Cock, who did not often begin aquarrel, but was always ready to keep it up. "I was hungry all night,"he added.

  "It is so senseless," said the Brown Hen. "He might just as well driveus in after we have had time enough for our supper, or even wait untilwe go in without driving. I have made up my mind not to go to-nightuntil I am ready."

  "What if they try to drive you?" asked the White Cock.

  "I will run this way and that, and flutter and squawk as hard as Ican," replied the Brown Hen.

  The Black Hen laughed in her cackling way. "I will do the same," saidshe. "It will serve the Man right for trying to send us to roost soearly. I think he will find it pretty hard work."

  The White Cock would make no promises. He wanted to see the Hens runaway from the Man, but thought he would rather stand quietly in acorner than to flutter around. He was afraid of acting like a Hen ifhe made too much fuss, and no Cock wishes to act like a Hen.

  The Shanghai Cock felt in the same way. "I am too big for running toand fro," said he, "but I will keep out of the pen and watch the fun."

  He had hardly spoken these words when the Man and the Little Girlscame into the yard and closed the gate behind them. The poultry kepton eating, but watched them as they ate. Suddenly the Brown Hen pickedup a small boiled potato that she had found among the other food, andran with it in her bill to the farthest corner of the yard. The BlackHen ran after her and the other Hens after them. The Cocks remainedbehind and watched.

  The Man and the Little Girls tried to get between the Hens and thefarthest side of the fence. The Hens would not let them for a while,but kept running back and forth there, until the potato had fallen topieces and been trampled on without any one having a taste. When theMan and the Little Girls finally got behind the Hens, the LittleGirls spread out their skirts and flapped them and the Man said,"Shoo! Shoo!"

  Then the Hens acted dreadfully frightened, and the Cocks began to turntheir heads quickly from side to side, quite as though they werelooking for a chance to get away. They were really having a great dealof fun. Whenever the Man thought that he had them all ready to go intothe open door of the pen, one of the Hens would turn with a frightenedsquawk and flutter wildly past him again to the back end of the yard,and then the Man would have to begin all over. Several of the Hensdropped loose feathers, and it was very exciting.

  "Well," said the Shanghai Cock, as the Man went back the fifth timefor a new start, "I think that Man will leave us alone afterto-night."

  "Yes," said the White Cock, who was standing near him, "I think we areteaching him a lesson."

  He spoke quite as though he and the other Cock were doing it, insteadof just standing by and watching the Hens. But that is often the waywith Cocks.

  After the Man had tried once more and failed, he certainly acted asthough he was ready to give up the task. He walked to the back end ofthe yard, took off his hat, and wiped his forehead with hishandkerchief. The Little Girls stood beside him, and he picked up afeather to show them. It was a wing-feather, and he was showing themhow the tiny hooks on each soft barb caught into those on the next andheld it firmly.

  The poultry watched him for a while and then began eating once more.They thought him quite discouraged.

  The Shanghai Cock and the White Cock were standing far apart whensomebody called "Er-ru-u-u-u-u!" which is the danger signal. As soonas he heard it, each Cock thought that the other had spoken, andopened his bill and said, "Er-ru-u-u-u-u!" in the same tone, evenbefore he looked around for a Hawk or an Eagle.

  Every Hen in the yard ducked her head and ran for the door of the penas fast as her legs would carry her. The Cocks let the Hens go aheadand crowd through the doorway as well
as they could, but they followedclosely behind. They were hardly inside when the door of the pen wasclosed after them and they heard the Man fastening it on the outside.

  "Wasn't that a shame!" said the Brown Hen, who always thought thatsomething was a shame. "We didn't finish our supper after all!"

  "I know it," said the White Cock. "It happened very badly, and allthat running had made me hungry."

  "What was the danger?" asked the Shanghai Cock. "I had no time to seewhether it was an Eagle or a Hawk coming."

  "What do you mean?" cried the White Cock. "If I had given the alarmwhich took all my friends from their supper into the pen, I think Iwould take time to see what the danger was. Can't you tell one kindof bird from another?"

  "I can if I see them," answered the Shanghai Cock, rather angrily. "Idid not see this one. I looked up as soon as you gave the cry, but Isaw nothing. I repeated the cry, as Cocks always do, but I sawnothing."

  "Now see here," said the White Cock, as he lowered his head and lookedthe Shanghai Cock squarely in the eyes, "you stop talking in this way!You gave the first warning and you know it. I only repeated the call."

  "I did not," retorted the Shanghai Cock, as he lowered his head andruffled his feathers. "_You_ gave the warning and _I_ repeated it."

  "He did not," interrupted the Brown Hen. "I stood right beside him,and I know he did not give the first call."

  "Well," said the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen, "I was standing close tothe Shanghai Cock, and _I_ know that _he_ did not give the firstcall." (Her Chickens were now so large that they did not need her, andshe had begun running with her old friends.)

  Then arose a great chatter and quarrel in the pen. Part of the Hensthought that the White Cock gave the first warning, and part of themthought that the Shanghai Cock did. Everybody was out of patience withsomebody else, and all were scolding and finding fault until theyreally had to stop for breath. It was when they stopped that theSpeckled Hen spoke for the first time. She had never been known toquarrel, and she was good-natured now.

  "I believe it was the White Plymouth Rock Cock in the other yard,"said she. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

  "Of course!" said all the fowls together. "It was certainly the WhitePlymouth Rock Cock in the other yard." Then they laughed and spokepleasantly to each other as they began to settle themselves for thenight. "We might as well go to roost now," they said, "even if it is abit early. All that running and talking was very tiring."

  But it was not the White Plymouth Rock Cock who had said"Er-ru-u-u-u-u!" He and his Hens had run into their pen at the sametime, and had been shut in. Only the Man and the Little Girls knew whoit really was, and they never told the poultry.

  THE LITTLE GIRLS GIVE A PARTY

  Late in the fall, when the Man began to talk of shutting the poultryinto their own yards for the winter, there came a few mild and lovelydays. The Little Girls had been playing out-of-doors in their jackets,but now they left them in the house and ran around bare-headed, asthey had done during the summer. All the poultry were happy over theweather, and several said that, if they thought it would last longenough, they would like to raise late broods of Chickens.

  The fowls had finished moulting, and had fine coats of new feathers tokeep them warm through the winter. The young Turkeys looked more andmore like their mothers, for they were already nearly as large as theyever would be. The Goslings and the Ducklings had grown finely, andboasted that their legs and feet began to look rougher and more likethose of the old Geese and Ducks. The Chickens were all White PlymouthRocks this year, and the tiny red combs which showed against the snowyfeathers of their heads made them very pretty. Even the Hens who hadcared for them since they were hatched would not have had them anyother color, although at first they had wished that their Chickenscould look more like them.

  In the barn all was neat and well cared for. The Man had made Browniea warm box-stall, so that he need not be tied in a cool and narrowplace whenever he stood in the barn, but might turn around and take afew steps in any direction he chose. There was plenty of fine hay inthe loft for him, and the place where Brown Bess and her Calf were tostand had also been made more comfortable. There were great binsfilled with grain for the poultry, and another full of fine gravel forthem to eat with their meals. They had no teeth and could not chewtheir food, you know, so they had to swallow enough gravel, or grit,for their stomachs to use in grinding it and getting the strength out.In another place was a great pile of dust for winter dust-baths.

  Everything was so well prepared for cold weather that it seemed almostfunny to have warm days again. And just at this time the Little Girlshad a birthday. Not two birthdays, you understand, but one, for theywere twins and were now exactly six years old. They were plump androsy Little Girls, and very strong from living so much out-of-doors.Each had a new doll for a birthday gift, and the funniest part of itwas that the brown-haired Little Girl had a brown-haired doll and thegolden-haired Little Girl had a golden-haired doll. That made it easyto tell which doll was which, just as the difference in hair made iteasy for their parents to tell one twin from the other.

  When they first awakened they were given birthday kisses instead ofbirthday spanks, six apiece for the years they had lived, a big one onwhich to grow, and another big one on which to be good. After thebreakfast dishes were washed and put away, their mother made twobirthday cakes for the Little Girls and put six candles on each. Withall this done for them, one would certainly expect the Little Girls tobe perfectly happy. But, what do you think? They could not beperfectly, blissfully happy, because they were not to have a party.

  Every year before this, as far back as they could remember, they hadbeen allowed to have a party, and this year they could not have it,because they were living on a farm and there were no other childrenwho could come. It is true that there were two others living quitenear, but these two had the measles and could not go to parties. Bythe time they were over the measles, the birthday would be long past,and so the Little Girls were disappointed.

  It was when the brown-haired Little Girl was telling her doll aboutthe last year's party, and the golden-haired Little Girl's eyes werefilling with tears, that their mother had a bright idea. She wouldnot tell them what it was, but asked them to care for the Baby whileshe went out to talk with the Man in the barn.

  When she came back she told them that they might have a party afterall and invite the poultry to come. "I think it will be great fun,"said she, "and I am sure they have never been to a birthday party intheir lives."

  How happy the Little Girls were then! The Man had put a very large boxjust in front of the poultry-yards where the White Plymouth Rocks werekept, so that, by crowding into the corners, the Chickens on one sideof the separating fence and the Cock and Hens on the other could comequite near to the box. Inside the big box was another which was to betheir table, and a couple of milking stools on which they were to sit.The Baby's chair was to be brought when he came.

  Of course it seemed a long time to wait until afternoon, when theparty was to come off. If there had not been so much to do, theLittle Girls certainly could not have been patient. It was wonderfulhow many things their mother could suggest. In the first place, theyhad to write a few invitations to pin up where the fowls could seethem. Then they had to go over to the edge of the woods and hunt allalong the roadside to find late flowers, bits of brake, and autumnleaves, with which to trim their box and the table. After that theytook pans and got grain for their guests from the bins in the barn.These they carried to the big box and placed on the table inside. Itwas not long afterward that the brown-haired Little Girl found theBlack Hen and the White Cock eating from these pans. "Oh, shoo!" shecried, running as fast as she could toward them and flapping herskirts. "Shoo! Shoo! It isn't time for you to come, and you mustn'teat up the party yet."

  The other twin feared that, after being frightened away in thisfashion, these two fowls would not want to come at the proper time,but she need not have worried. Fowls are always glad to come to a good
supper, and there is much more danger of their coming too early andstaying too late than there is of their not coming at all. After thatthe pans of grain were carried into the house to wait until the righttime.

  In the afternoon the twins and their dolls came out to the big boxwhich they pretended was their house. The open side of it was towardthe poultry-yards, and there was plenty of room between for the fowlswho were running free to come in and get their food. The Little Girlshad wanted to put on their Sunday dresses, but their mother told themthat she did not think it would be really polite to the poultry, whohad to wear the very same feathers that they had on every day. So theLittle Girls contented themselves with having their hair done up ontop of their heads and bows of yellow tissue paper pinned on theknots. This made them feel very fine indeed, and as though being sixyears old were almost the same as being grown up. They had somebeautiful red tissue paper which they wanted to use, but when theyremembered how the Gobbler felt about red, they decided to use theyellow instead. And that was both wise and kind. One should always tryto make guests happy.

  The Baby was not to come out until supper-time, so the Little Girlsand their dolls played quite alone for a while. There was much to telland to show the dolls, for it was the first time they had ever been ona farm, and everything must have seemed strange to them.

  "Do you see that tall White Plymouth Rock Cock over there?" said thebrown-haired twin to hers. "My Father says he is the most vallyoobolfowl on the farm. He cost a lot of money. I asked Father if he paid asmuch as ten cents for him, and he said he paid a great deal more. Justthink of that! More than ten cents! You must be very polite to him."

  "I will show you our kindest Hen," said the golden-haired twin to herdoll. "She is coming this way now. She is the Barred Plymouth RockHen, and she is a peticullar friend of my Father's. She didn't cost somuch as some of the others, but she is very good."

  "And there comes the Speckled Hen," said the brown-haired twin. "Shedoesn't lay many eggs, but my Father says that she is the best Hen onthe farm about taking care of lonely or sick Chickens. She is verysmall, but she spreads herself out so she can cover a lot, and thenshe cuddles them until they are happy again, and can run around withher and eat the Worms she scratches up for them."

  There is no telling how much more the dolls might have learned abouttheir new neighbors, if the Baby and the mother of the Little Girlshad not come out just then. The Baby was put in his chair in the bigbox and given a cracker to eat, while the Little Girls stood outsideand called to their company.

  "Come, Chick, Chick, Chick!" they called. "Come, Chick, Chick,Chick!"

  From far and near the Hens came running, with lowered heads andhurrying feet, to seize the food which they knew would be given themafter that call. The Shanghai Cock and the White Cock followed moreslowly, as was their habit. The Gander waddled gravely along from thefarthest corner of the pasture in which the poultry-house stood, withhis wife and the other Geese following solemnly behind him. TheTurkeys, all together once more since the children were so large, camewith rather more haste from the roadside, where they had been huntingacorns. And down by the river the Ducks and their children could beseen scrambling up onto the bank and shaking themselves. All were gladenough to come to the party as soon as they were sure it was time, butwhether they had understood the invitations which had been pinnedaround for them to read--well, who can tell about that?

  The Man came from the barn to see the fun, and he and the Woman setthe two birthday cakes from her basket onto the table. After she haddone that, she had to pay more attention to the Baby, who kept tryingto reach them with his fat little hands. The Man handed a pan of cornto each of the Little Girls. "Wait until the Ducks get here," he said."They must have their share and there is plenty of time."

  The brown-haired Little Girl felt that those who were waiting shouldbe amused in some way, so she began to talk to them. "This is ourbirthday party," she said, "and we are very glad you didn't have themeasles, so you could come. A party is something to eat when you aredressed up and have company. We have some corn for you because youlike that best, but if you are good and polite you may have some ofour cake, too."

  By this time the Ducks were there, and each Little Girl began flinginghandfuls of corn out to the poultry. Some of it was thrown into theyards where the White Plymouth Rocks were kept, and the rest fellbetween the yards and the big box. One cannot say very much for themanners of the company, yet it is quite certain that they had a goodtime. When they had settled down to eating quietly, the Man lightedthe candles on the birthday cakes and the Woman passed a plate ofbread and butter sandwiches to the three happy children around thetable. The dolls did not seem to be hungry, but they must have enjoyedit very much, for they smiled all the time, even when nobody wasspeaking to them.

  The Man and the Woman sat on a couple of old Chicken-coops by the openside of the big box, and said what a fine day it was, and how goodeverything tasted, and what a very large party it was. The Babylaughed a great deal and said "Pitty! Pitty!" every time a soft breezemade the candle-flames dip and waver. The most exciting time came whenthe candles burned low and had to be blown out by the Little Girls,with the Baby helping.

  Then the cakes were cut, and the Man and the Woman and the threechildren in the box all had a share. The dolls were not forgotten, buteven after they had been fed there was much remaining. The BarredPlymouth Rock Hen stepped daintily up to the box and stood with herleft foot lifted.

  "My friend, the Hen, is hinting that we should pass the cake to theother guests," said the Man, "and I think we should."

  The Little Girls helped to cut it into small pieces, and then thewhole family, Baby, and all, stood in the sunshine and threw thefragments to the eager poultry, while the dolls looked on. The BarredPlymouth Rock Hen walked inside the box and picked up the many crumbsaround the table, while the other fowls fluttered and ran for thepieces outside. The Black Hen always picked for the largest, and therest chased her. Their manners were certainly bad, but it was thefirst birthday party they had ever attended, and perhaps it is notstrange that they were excited and greedy.

  When the last crumb had been thrown out and not even the Black Hencould find another scrap, the Man and his family turned toward thehouse. The sun was already low in the sky, and the air grew cooler asnight drew near. It reminded the Man that winter was coming. "It hasbeen a happy summer," he said, "a busy and happy summer. I am strongagain, and the work has gone well. I have a fine lot of fowls, and Iam fond and proud of them. I think they deserve a party once in awhile."

  "It was the very nicest party we ever had," said the Little Girls. "Weought to invite the poultry every time."

  The Barred Plymouth Rock Hen murmured softly as she walked alongbehind them.

  "She thinks so too," said the Man.