38 OUR HUMBLE HELPERS 



fine, alert, and vigorous these young chickens are; 

 they are all mine; I raised them there all alone in 

 a corner of the hedge, and now I bring them to you. 

 Am I not a fine hen I ' Yes, my dear biddy, you are 

 a fine hen, but also an imprudent one. In the fields 

 prowl the weasel and the marten which, if you are 

 absent a moment, will suck the blood of your little 

 ones ; in the fields the fox is watching to wring your 

 neck; in the fields there are cold, rain, bad weather, 

 grave peril for your shivering family. You would 

 do better to remain at home. 



"The greater number follow this prudent advice 

 and do not leave the poultry-yard. In the semi- 

 obscurity of a sheltered quiet corner is placed the 

 egg-basket, lined with a bed of hay or of crumpled 

 straw. In it are put from twelve to fifteen eggs, the 

 largest and freshest being chosen, and preferably 

 those not more than a week old. If they were two 

 or three weeks old they would not be sure to hatch, 

 as in many of them the germ would have become too 

 old and would have lost the power to develop. 

 These arrangements made, the eggs are left to the 

 setting hen without being touched again. 



" Whoever has not seen a setting hen has missed 

 one of the most touching sights in this world: the 

 devotion of the mother-bird to her eggs, her self- 

 forgetfulness even to the point of sacrificing her 

 own life. Her eyes shine with fever, her skin burns. 

 Eating and drinking are forgotten, and in order not 

 to leave her eggs a moment a hen might even let her- 

 self die of hunger on the nest if some one did not 



