CHAPTER IV 



THE GALLIC WAR 



HE next morning I was at the hen- 

 house before I took care of the horses. 

 It was a sharp morning, with overcast 

 sky, and the fowls looked a trifle 

 hunchy. 



However, some dry grain scattered among the 

 litter on the floor of their pens set them scratching 

 actively, and as they scratched and warmed to 

 their work they began to prate cheerfully, while 

 the two cocks paraded up and down in front of 

 their wire partition, defying each other, and saying 

 doubtless all manner of evil things of each other. 

 As I watched them swell and strut and lower 

 their heads defiantly, and occasionally make a 

 short rush at each other, a vague shadow of the 

 old feeling that used to induce me when a boy to 

 toss our rooster over a neighbor's fence, and then 

 watch the battle that would ensue, came over me, 

 and for a moment I felt a sinful desire to let them 

 together for just a few jumps. 



The Hamburg was a handsome, silvery fellow, 

 with long sickle feathers and well - developed 



