CONTENTMENT. 



NCE on a time an old red hen 



Went strutting around with pompous chicks, 

 For she had Httle babies ten, 

 A part of which were tiny ducks ; 

 " 'Tis very rare that hens," said she, 

 " Have baby ducks, as well as chicks ; 

 But I possess, as you can see. 



Of chickens four and ducklings six !" 



A season later, this old hen 



Appeared, still cackling of her luck, 

 For though she boasted babies ten, 

 Not one among them was a duck ! 

 " 'Tis well," she murmured, brooding o'er 



The little chicks of fleecy down, 

 " My babies now will stay ashore. 



And, consequently, cannot drown !" 



The following spring the old red hen 

 Clucked just as proudly as of yore ; 

 But lo ! her babies were ducklings ten, 

 Instead of chickens, as before ! 

 " 'Tis better," said the old red hen. 



As she surveyed her waddling brood, 

 " A little water, now and then, 



Will surely do my darlings good !" 



But, oh ! alas, how very sad ! 



When gentle spring rolled round again. 

 The eggs eventuated bad, 



And childless was the old red hen ! 

 Yet, patiently she bore her woe. 



And still she wore a cheerful air. 

 And said : " 'Tis best these things are so. 



For babies are a dreadful care ! " 



I half suspect that many men. 



And many, many women too, 

 Could learn a lesson from the hen. 



With foliage of vermilion hue. 

 She ne'er presumed to take offence 



At any fate that might befall. 

 But meekly bowed to Providence. — 



She was contented — that was all ! 



— Eugene Field. 



163 



