102 FARMING IT 



them suffering from melancholia, with heads sunk 

 on their breasts, and apparently indifferent to 

 their surroundings. I at once powdered them 

 thoroughly with insect powder, under which dras- 

 tic treatment they promptly died without struggle 

 or squeak. 



A week later, four more passed peacefully away 

 without apparent reason, and a week later cholera 

 attacked the remainder. One by one they passed 

 to the great hereafter. We found them in all 

 places, in all positions. Some on their backs, 

 with their feeble little claws outstretched in air, 

 some huddled into corners, with heads drawn 

 back over their shoulders, some curled up like 

 balls of fur. 



In vain I tried all the remedies in the poultry 

 papers and in books. In vain I consulted wise 

 sages and oracles in poultry-culture. It was use- 

 less ; those turks were doomed from the moment 

 of their entrance into a sinful world. In a month 

 from their arrival nothing remained but bitter 

 memories and a very inconsiderable addition to 

 my compost-heap. 



In the meantime the old cock, having much 

 unoccupied time on his hands, and pining for the 

 society of his wife, who was still sitting on the 

 bricks under the brush-heap, was occupied in 

 chasing defenseless women from the premises. 

 Scarcely a day passed without a sally and a rescue. 



