40 FARMING IT 



The next thing was to get the gamecock out 

 of the pen. It was my intention when I bought 

 those Hamburgs to breed to a feather, and not 

 allow any hybrids on the farm, but the presence 

 of an alien rooster of undisputed lineage, but 

 practically unknown moral standing, in a flock 

 of young and giddy female birds, mere school- 

 girl biddies in fact, might excite in the unre- 

 generate a suspicion of a taint in the blood of 

 their progeny, to say nothing of a blot on their 

 moral escutcheon. 



So I opened the door between the pens, stepped 

 in, and carefully fastened it to avoid a second 

 fatality to the Dominique at its hands, or rather 

 at its heels. While my back was turned and my 

 attention occupied in this task, the feathered 

 pugilist struck me a most vicious blow in the 

 calf of my right leg, which hurt outrageously, and 

 so angered me that I rushed furiously after him. 



Away he went round the coop, flapping and 

 swearing in shrill gallinaceous language, while 

 I came right after him, doing my best to answer 

 his remarks in vigorous English. Now any one 

 who has endeavored to catch an adult and frantic 

 rooster in a small room, and in the midst of a 

 round dozen of hysterical and gymnastic hens, 

 in full possession of astonishing powers of speech 

 and motion, knows what a dreadful task is before 

 one. 



