Feathered Folk 343 



nipple at the top. The beak squeezes oil 

 out of this nipple, and spreads it deftly over 

 the plumage, thus keeping up gloss and color. 

 Oil-secretion stops while a hen broods. All 

 her vitality goes in warmth to enliven the 

 eggs underneath her. It is the same while 

 she carries young — she must warm as well 

 as feed and look out for them. Her comb is 

 pale, her feet look pinched, her feathers fade 

 and grow draggled, as she runs clucking 

 about, keeping a weather-eye for hawks — 

 so ware indeed of the danger which cometh 

 out of the air she often gives the grating cry of 

 warning that sends her brood scuttering to 

 cover, at the chance flutter of a kite, or even 

 the darkening of a quick cloud. 



She has somewhat of weather wisdom, but 

 is without discretion. Though she hovers 

 her brood as the first raindrops fall, she 

 does not know enough to keep them dry and 

 quiet until the fall has soaked in the earth. 

 Instead, as soon as rain ceases she marches 

 about, her draggled, unhappy brood peeping 

 at her heels, and maybe drowns half of them 

 in hidden small pools or high wet grass. 

 Chickens drown very easily even after they 

 are full-feathered, yet full-grown fowls thrive 

 best when permitted to roost outdoors. Fur- 

 ther their manner of feeding foretells the 

 length of a summer shower. If they keep 



