DOMESTIC FOWL 435 



ing is already anticipated. It is the feathered, wakeful 

 thought in us that anticipates the following day. This 

 sound is wonderfully exhilarating at all times. These 

 birds are worth far more to me for their crowing and 

 cackling than for their drumsticks and eggs. How 

 singular the connection of the hen with man, — that 

 she leaves her eggs in his barns always ! She is a domes- 

 tic fowl, though still a little shyish of him. I cannot 

 help looking at the whole as an experiment still and 

 wondering that in each case it succeeds. There is no 

 doubt at last but hens may be kept. They will put their 

 eggs in your barn by a tacit agreement. They will not 

 wander far from your yard. 



July 19, 1851. I see that hens, too, follow the cows 

 feeding near the house, like the cow troopial, and for 

 the same object. They cannot so well scare up insects 

 for themselves. This is the dog the cowbird uses to 

 start up its insect game. 



July 22, 1851. I hear the cockerels crow through 

 it, 1 and the rich crow of young roosters, that sound in- 

 dicative of the bravest, rudest health, hoarse without 

 cold, hoarse with rude health. That crow is all-nature- 

 compelling; famine and pestilence flee before it. 



Jan. 15, 1852. It is good to see Minott's hens peck- 

 ing and scratching the ground. What never-failing 

 health they suggest ! Even the sick hen is so naturally 

 sick, — like a green leaf turning to brown. No wonder 

 men love to have hens about them and hear their creak- 

 ing note. They are even laying eggs from time to time 

 still, — the undespairing race! 

 1 [Fog.] 



