Tales of a Poultry Farm

by Clara Dillingham Pierson

“Is there plenty to eat here?” asked the Guinea-Cock.

“Plenty,” answered the Gobbler. “It is much better than it used to be. There is a new Man here, and he takes better care of his fowls than the Farmer did. He doesn’t carry red handkerchiefs either.”

“I don’t care what kind of handkerchiefs he carries,” said the Guinea-Cock. “What makes you talk about such things?”

“You would know what makes me speak of them if you were a Gobbler,” was the answer. “I cannot bear red things. I cannot even eat my corn comfortably when anything red is around. You see it is quite important. Anything which spoils a fellow’s fun in eating is important.”

“Nothing would spoil my fun if I had the right sort of food,” remarked the Guinea-Cock. Then he turned to the Guinea-Hens. “Come,” he said. “We have eaten enough. Let us walk around and see the place.”

All three started off, walking along where-ever they chose, and stopping to feed or to talk about what they saw. Anybody could tell by looking at them that they were related to the Turkeys, but the Gobbler had not cared to remind them of that. He was looking for more company during the time when his own family left him so much alone. He knew that before very long the Turkey Chicks would be too large to fear him, and that when that time came, their mothers and they would be willing to walk with him. Then he would have less to do with the other poultry, and might not want three bad-mannered Guinea-fowl cousins tagging along after him.

Whenever the three met another fowl, they talked about him and said exactly what they thought, and if they passed a Hen who had just found a choice bit of food, they chased her away and ate it themselves. Sometimes they even chased fowls who were not in their way and who were not eating things that they wanted. It seemed as though they had simply made up their minds to do what they wanted to do, whenever and wherever they wished. They did not make much fuss about it, and if you had seen them when they were doing none of these mean things, you would have thought them very genteel. You would never have suspected that they could act as they did.

The Gander and the Geese passed near the Guinea-fowls and the Guinea-fowls did not chase them. They were not foolish enough to annoy people so much larger than they. It is true that the Hens were larger than they, yet the Guinea-fowls could make them run every time. If they had troubled the Geese, it might have ended with the Guinea-fowls doing the running. And the Guinea-fowls were cowards. They would never quarrel with people unless they were sure of beating.

“S-s-s-s-s-s-s!” said the Gander. “Are we to have that sort of people on this farm? If we are, I would rather live somewhere else. I do not see why there should be any disagreeable people anyway.”