42 



Handbook of Nature-Study 



pupils should see that the down is so soft that the little, fluffy wings of the 

 chick are useless until the real wing feathers appear. 



We chew food until it is soft and fine, then swallow it, but the chick 

 swallows it whole and after being softened by juices from the stomach it 

 passes into a little mill, in which is gravel that the chicken has swallowed, 

 which helps to grind the food. This mill is called the gizzard and the 

 pupils should be taught to look carefully at this organ the next time they 

 have chicken for dinner. A chicken has no muscles in the throat, like 

 ours, to enable it to swallow water as we do. Thus, it has first to fill its 





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beak with water, then hold it up so the water will flow down the throat of 

 itself. As long as the little chick has its mother's wings to sleep under, it 

 does not need to put its head under its own wing; but when it grows up 

 and spends the night upon a roost, it always tuck» its head under its wing 

 while sleeping. 



The conversation of the barnyard fowl covers many elemental emo- 

 tions and is easily comprehended. It is well for the children to under- 

 stand from the first that the notes of birds mean something definite. The 

 hen clucks when she is leading her chicks afield so that they will know 

 where she is in the tall grass; the chicks follow "cheeping" or "peeping," 

 as the children say, so that she will know where they are ; but if a chick 



