110 HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 



way for one of the Nodes of Christopher 

 Nbrth and the Ettrick Shepherd and Timothy 

 Tickler. I sure would! 



You know how the recipes start off in the 

 books: "Take a chicken." But that won't 

 do. You know what you're liable to get when 

 you just "take a chicken" one of those 

 scrawny, blue-skinned caricatures that would 

 make a tramp feel he'd been cheated if he stole 

 it. The chicken that's consecrated to this 

 Happy Hollow cookery must be picked out 

 with as much care as you'd use in picking the 

 horse you expected to bet on at a Derby. We 

 pick 'em out from the flock in the yards when 

 they're half grown; and when they're selected 

 they go into training. It's not training down, 

 but training up. For the rest of their lives 

 they live in chicken paradise, fed on clean grain 

 and milk and green clover, so that they grow 

 lustily. A spring Orpington with that sort of 

 feeding will be an eight-pounder or better at 

 Holiday time, a perfect picture of what a 

 chicken ought to be plump as a toy balloon, 

 with the plumpness in tender meat, and only a 

 little loose fat distributed around here and 

 there under his yellow skin. When he's dressed 



