“Naw, she ain't a-goin' to hurt you,” was the encouraging reply. “Git up an' crawl th'oo; I'll help you.”
Billy, having overcome his scruples, now entered into the undertaking with great zest.
Jimmy climbed the chicken ladder, kicked his chubby legs through the aperture, hung suspended on his fat little middle for an instant, and finally, with much panting and tugging, wriggled his plump, round body into the hen-house. He walked over where a lonesome looking hen was sitting patiently on a nest. He put out a cautious hand and the hen promptly gave it a vicious peck.
“Billy,” he called angrily, “you got to come in here and hold this old chicken; she's 'bout the terriblest pecker they is.”
Billy stuck his head in the little square hole. “Go at her from behind,” he suggested; “put yo' hand under her easy like, an' don' let her know what you's up to.”
Jimmy tried to follow these instructions, but received another peck for his pains. He promptly mutinied.
“If you want any eggs,” he declared, scowling at the face framed in the aperture, “you can come get 'em yourself. I done monkeyed with this chicken all I'm going to.”
So Billy climbed up and easily got his lean little body through the opening. He dexterously caught the hen by the nape of the neck, as he had seen Aunt Cindy do, while Jimmy reached for the eggs.
“If we ain't done lef' my cap outside on the groun',” said Billy. “What we goin' to put the eggs in?”
“Well, that's just like you, Billy, you all time got to leave your cap on the ground. I'll put 'em in my blouse till you get outside and then I'll hand 'em to you. How many you going to take?”