Tales of a Poultry Farm

by Clara Dillingham Pierson

“I will run this way and that, and flutter and squawk as hard as I can,” replied the Brown Hen.

The Black Hen laughed in her cackling way. “I will do the same,” said she. “It will serve the Man right for trying to send us to roost so early. I think he will find it pretty hard work.”

The White Cock would make no promises. He wanted to see the Hens run away from the Man, but thought he would rather stand quietly in a corner than to flutter around. He was afraid of acting like a Hen if he made too much fuss, and no Cock wishes to act like a Hen.

The Shanghai Cock felt in the same way. “I am too big for running to and fro,” said he, “but I will keep out of the pen and watch the fun.”

He had hardly spoken these words when the Man and the Little Girls came into the yard and closed the gate behind them. The poultry kept on eating, but watched them as they ate. Suddenly the Brown Hen picked up a small boiled potato that she had found among the other food, and ran with it in her bill to the farthest corner of the yard. The Black Hen ran after her and the other Hens after them. The Cocks remained behind and watched.

The Man and the Little Girls tried to get between the Hens and the farthest side of the fence. The Hens would not let them for a while, but kept running back and forth there, until the potato had fallen to pieces and been trampled on without any one having a taste. When the Man and the Little Girls finally got behind the Hens, the Little Girls spread out their skirts and flapped them and the Man said, “Shoo! Shoo!”

Then the Hens acted dreadfully frightened, and the Cocks began to turn their heads quickly from side to side, quite as though they were looking for a chance to get away. They were really having a great deal of fun. Whenever the Man thought that he had them all ready to go into the open door of the pen, one of the Hens would turn with a frightened squawk and flutter wildly past him again to the back end of the yard, and then the Man would have to begin all over. Several of the Hens dropped loose feathers, and it was very exciting.

“Well,” said the Shanghai Cock, as the Man went back the fifth time for a new start, “I think that Man will leave us alone after to-night.”

“Yes,” said the White Cock, who was standing near him, “I think we are teaching him a lesson.”

He spoke quite as though he and the other Cock were doing it, instead of just standing by and watching the Hens. But that is often the way with Cocks.