28 FARMING IT 



found myself on the ground under the superin- 

 cumbent weight of two slatted coops filled with 

 flapping, squawking, clawing hens, while the 

 horse obediently stopped and waited for me to 

 regain my seat and take command. 



When the family arrived, all asking questions 

 at once and loudly wondering if I were dead, 

 an unreasonable assumption in view of my lan- 

 guage, I had righted my wagon, replaced one 

 coop with its prisoners intact, and had stood 

 the other on its broken end, from which half of 

 its occupants had escaped and were wandering 

 round making rustlings in the leaves and bushes. 

 After what was left of my load had been safely 

 secured in the henhouse, I spent the next two 

 hours, lantern in hand, in tracking, chasing, and 

 running to earth the fugitive hens, after which, 

 completely fagged out, I retired. 



