Junior Naturalist Monthly. 355 



would make a good mother hen, who could be trusted to raise a nice 

 family of chickens. After waiting a day or two, to see whether old 

 Cinnamon would change her mind, he dusted her with insect powder, 

 and one evening placed 15 of the largest, smoothest, most perfect- 

 shaped eggs under her. Near by he placed some com and oats, 

 some gravel, a dish of water, and a large box of dust and coal ashes. 

 This is the way his grandmother did so that her broody hen could 

 come off whenever she wanted to eat or drink or enjoy a nice dust 

 bath. He then fenced in the stall so that other hens could not steal 

 the food or disturb his silent partner. Old Cinnamon was really and 

 truly Tom's silent partner, for it was agreed that Tom should have 

 half the money for the eggs and chickens. This money was to be his 

 to put into his bank or to spend as he pleased. Old Cinnamon was 

 to receive, as her share, the best of care and all she could eat. 



How long it seemed to Tom, those 21 days before the chickens 

 hatched! But how much longer it must have seemed to old Cinna- 

 mon who could not run about and play all day, as Tom could, but 

 had to sit there patiently waiting for her little chickens to hatch! 

 She seemed to enjoy it, however. 



One night, Tom thought he heard a chicken peep. Sure enough! 

 He was right. Then he listened close to old Cinnamon and heard it 

 again; "Peep, peep, peep!" But he did not disturb her, because 

 he had learned that it is better not to go near a good hen when her 

 chickens are hatching. So he waited, and one morning, a most 

 interesting sight met his eyes. There was old Cinnamon, right on 

 time, as happy and as contented as could be, with one bright, 

 little, black-eyed chicken on her back and a row of cute little heads 

 darting in and out between her feathers all about her. She was 

 saying, " Cluck, cluck, cluck, " in such a soothing way that Tom 

 imagined she was telling her little downy babies not to be afraid, for 

 he was their friend. 



Tom had prepared already a large, dry, clean coop where his little 

 family might live. In front, he had a wide board on which to place 

 the food during the day. At night, this board was raised against 

 the coop to keep out rats and weasels. It also kept the little chicks 

 from running out into the cold, wet grass before Tom came out in the 

 morning. You know little chickens are early risers. 



"How many chicks did old Cinnamon hatch?" How many do 

 you suppose? "Eight?" No, guess again. Eight chickens are as 

 many as some hens hatch, but old Cinnamon actually hatched out 

 11, bright, active, puff-ball babies. 



