older the chicklings became more and 

 more venturesome and wandered far 

 away from the mother whose territory 

 was limited by a short cord. One day 

 I found them near the cedars, making the 

 rich, loose dirt fly with their tiny toes 

 and chirping happily in the endeavor to 

 earn their daily bread. It was a pleasing 

 sight. The next day I could not locate 

 them. Sometimes they followed the road 

 to see something of the world. One 

 evening another chicken was missing, 

 and so they disappeared one after another. 

 It was baffling. I could not find the least 

 clue and searched in vain. I observed 

 that after the ranks were diminished the 

 band kept close to the Mother Hen for 

 several succeeding days, then the fever 

 of unrest laid hold again and they wan- 

 dered far from the watchful care of their 

 protector. Another went to parts un- 

 known. 



One morning the truth came out. I 

 was in the garden watching a rooster 

 and hen having a good social time 

 scratching and picking. Suddenly a hawk 

 swooped down over them. The danger 

 came and went unknown to< the two most 

 deeply interested, and before the other 

 fowls had a chance to scurry to cover or 

 sound a note of warning. Too much of 

 a mouthful saved them from the tallons 

 of the rapacious hawk. Later in the day 

 I heard the swish of wings and saw the 

 evil again. I rushed out; hawk, chick- 

 ens, gone. After a long search I found 

 the chicklings behind the open screen 

 door on the porch — a great fear upon 

 them. I gathered them up, but. the 

 silence remained unbroken. 



In about two weeks Mr. Hawk again 

 appeared. Poor Blackie was the unfor- 

 tunate victim. His despairing shrieks 

 were heartrending as the triumphant 

 hawk bore him swiftly away. 



Now only four chickens were left, good 

 sized fellows, so I got a patent right 

 "invention for their protection. Once more 

 the hawk threw his feet at them in his 

 swift descent and met the shock of an 

 iron cage. 



As the days went by some new trait 

 exhibited itself, which had to be cropped 

 off or turned into a new channel. What 

 a great responsibility it is to raise chick- 



ens ! I gave them a post graduate course 

 in the intricacies of language, and they 

 learned to talk quite fluently, "ah, ah, taw, 

 taw, too too, coo coo, uh, uh uh, whoo- 

 oo-oo, ah-a-a-a, ih, ih, ih," with such 

 delicious inflections in their soprano, 

 mezzo soprano and contralto and bass 

 voices. Spottie in his big coarse voice 

 which distinguished him, even in his 

 babyhood, is not yet proof against grum- 

 bling, but his sisters can murmur the 

 sweetest nothings. As I inspect them 

 critically I feel like bragging of their 

 splendid health, graceful forms and 

 handsome plumage. 



When they regained their liberty they 

 expressed their lofty ideas in the form of 

 elevated seats. One maiden choose a 

 secluded corner ;. the other two and Spot- 

 tie preferred the same quarter. Spottie, 

 considering his right of masculine su- 

 premacy, crowded in between the two sis- 

 ters every night, occupying the position 

 of safety and warmth. Wasn't he like 

 a man to demand the easiest chair and 

 the most comfortable corner? 



The three pullets were always kind 

 and gentle, a credit to their community, 

 right up to date and the coming new 

 hens of the twentieth century. Spottie, 

 whom I had trained in the way he should 

 go, when he grew old went the way he 

 wanted to go, a wild and wayward fellow. 



Some time before they were to start 

 out into the world to seek their fortunes 

 the Ice Trust got hold with a powerful 

 grip and the family were kept within 

 doors. During those days a wonderful 

 thing happened. One morning in this 

 abode I found a beautiful snow-white 

 egg. It was golden because of its rarity. 

 I was puzzled. None of the inmates had 

 been outside, and there had been no vis- 

 itors. Every other day there was the 

 golden egg. I questioned the family. 

 Mother Hen looked wise but non-com- 

 mittal ; the children equally the same. 

 But I saw a smile in the corner of the 

 eye of the pullet I loved best. I watched 

 Mother Hen closely as she went about her 

 household work. Suddenly I was sur- 

 prised ; Mother Hen had ceased to chuck. 

 As I went off with the egg Miss Pullet 

 said : "I'll bring you many eggs some 

 day." N. Penelope Covert. 



i :>•_• 



