THE HEN AND HER FAMILY. 



The first of November, a foolish old 

 hen marched triumphantly about the barn 

 yard, parading a brood of young chickens 

 which she believed were 'Veritable lit- 

 tle angels with precious small wings." 

 Didn't she know it was the wrong time 

 of the year to dazzle with the splendor 

 of a new title, and exceedingly cold 

 weather for a show? But she utterly 

 ignored these suggestions, and strutted 

 proudly about, clucking exultingly in her 

 recent joy. She was so absorbed in it 

 that she needed not the cries of her help- 

 less offspring who* were loudly objecting 

 to the vanity of her proceedings. I had 

 compassion for the shivering babies and 

 immediately took up a collection, the fowl 

 wrathfully presenting opposition. 



I then captured Mother Hen after 

 much difficulty and many exasperating 

 attempts. Immediately she commenced 

 to tune up. She put her windpipe into 

 service and launched forth into one of 

 those startling blood and robbery songs. 

 She certainly has a musical voice, but as 

 some time had elapsed since the machin- 

 ery had been well oiled of course the 

 sounds could be nothing but an ear-split- 

 ting grind. She no doubt thought the 

 melody appropriate to the occasion. I 

 have not the least hesitancy in asserting 

 that it was a shrieking success. It was 

 made doubly impressive by the accom- 

 paniment of her wings, beating on the 

 double forte measures and fluttering on 

 the pianissimo parts. 



The encore at this madamly effort was 

 tremendous. All the fowls in the barn 

 yard were clapping their tongues. "Cut 

 cut, cut taw cut!" The coarse tones of 

 the males blended harmoniously with the 

 delicate timber of the females and the 

 cracked voices of the aged mingled con- 

 fusedly with those of the younger genera- 

 tions. The applause was hearty and pro- 

 longed. It rose and fell, ran up and 

 down the throats of four hundred fowls. 



Yonder, at the hog pen, the call was taken 

 up ; an eighth of a mile across the creek 

 "cut cut, cut taw cut" was heard. The 

 refrain was echoed by others in the corn- 

 field near the distant hedge. Far down 

 the creek in a sunshiny secluded spot still 

 others awoke. The farm of eighty acres 

 seemed alive with "cut cut, cut tah cut." 

 All of the tribe put forth renewed and 

 extra effort. The thunder of approval 

 increased until it was deafening. Pan- 

 demonium had indeed broken loose. Sev- 

 eral old reprobate roosters in mistaken 

 zeal flew at me and insolently expostu- 

 lated. They were only deferred from 

 pouncing upon me by a difference in 

 weight. And they did give me several 

 vicious pecks in the back — the cowards. 

 I could not defend myself, for my hands 

 were full. 



But I had my revenge ! I arrested one 

 hen for disturbing the peace. You know 

 that long slender portion connecting the 

 head and body ? Well, I applied a sudden 

 pressure upon that pipe organ about 

 midway; the music stopped immediately. 

 As soon as the bellows filled with wind 

 again the machinery ground out a new 

 allotment. It took numerous applications 

 of the breaks to shut off the sound. All 

 the while that terrible encore was ringing 

 in my ears I had to beat a retreat ; it was 

 too much for me. With the chickens in 

 my apron, the old hen's legs in one hand 

 and the other busily employed in cutting 

 off the air draught, I got into the house 

 and closed the doors tight. By this time 

 the captive was speechless. She was 

 bound with a shackle and put into prison. 



She was slow to learn. She was very 

 touchy. It took a repetition of the breaks 

 daily for several weeks before she com- 

 prehended the significance of an emanci- 

 pation from the abominable pressure. 

 Then I could tuck her under my arm 

 with no remonstrance. 



I next turned m\ attention to the little 



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