AN OFF-DAY 51 



The behaviour of the fowls was another. 



They live, poor brutes, in the attic, which 

 they habitually enter, not by the ample 

 space between the eaves and the wall, but 

 by the window of the dwelling-room below 

 and by the chimney. 



Their modus operandi is the following. 

 I give a typical instance. 



A hen will be seized by an insane 

 passion for home, to gratify which, after 

 several false starts, she flutters heavily on 

 to the window-sill, squawking vociferously, 

 and remains there some minutes in the near 

 proximity of the reader, screaming as she 

 tries to make up her mind to pass him and 

 enter the room. 



If not dislodged by a missile, she pre- 

 sently flutters in, screeching, and makes 

 for the chimney, up which she struggles 

 clumsily, still screeching and fluttering. 

 Nor does the exasperating clamour cease 

 with her arrival, for she keeps up a self- 

 congratulatory cackle for some minutes 

 afterwards. 



