64 FARMING IT 



tonishing sight met my gaze. Arranged in per- 

 fect order in rows across the yard were about 

 three hundred and fifty chickens, stiff, cold, and 

 drenched, with their poor little legs sticking 

 straight in air as if each had raised both hands 

 to call public attention to its individual case. 

 The rain had been driven by the east wind into 

 the depressed barrels and had drowned nearly 

 our entire colony. 



The sight of the orderly rows of deceased 

 chicks, and of Nick's frightfully solemn face, 

 was too much, and I sat down on a barrel and 

 roared and roared until Nick began to be infected 

 and a hideous smile crept over his funny old face. 



"Weel, 'Enry," he said finally, '"owtha canst 

 laugh 't is more than Hi can do. Hi '11 'ave no 

 mon lose money by me. So take th' rest o' 'em 

 awa." 



It took me some time to convince him that as 

 a square man he must not desert a partner in 

 distress, or a sinking ship ; and before I left he 

 had visibly cheered up and was busily engaged 

 in burying the dead. 



No further calamity happened, and early in the 

 fall I received my dividend in the shape of about 

 twenty of the gauntest, long-leggedest chickens 

 the world ever saw. When the flood had rushed 

 in on them, they had weathered the storm on 

 the principle of the survival of the fittest, which 



