They all stood near the pig pen but Janet warned them not to lean on it as it might fall over. Then Mrs. Tompkins spoke: “The pigs are underfed, Janet, for their age. What do you feed ’em?”
Janet told of all the feed she gave them but Mrs. Tompkins replied: “You do not give them sufficient milk. Little pigs must have more milk than that. Si feeds our pigs the skim-milk which they like as much as other milk.”
“That’s what I can do when the cow gets here, but milk costs too much, now, to feed it to the pigs.” So saying Janet led the way over to the chicken-house.
Since walking to the barn yard the itching had started to annoy her again, so that when they came to the hen-house she was twisting and wriggling as before. The chickens were out in the yard scratching for food, while the cock stood upon a stump and showed off his plumes in the sunlight. Janet felt a just pride in their looks.
“I’m getting from four to six eggs every day, now,” said she to the visitor. “I shouldn’t wonder but there will be two or three in the nests, now.” So saying she ran in and found three nice brown eggs.
“There you are! I told you so.” And she displayed them to the lady with all the vanity of a successful chicken farmer.
“Did you just get them out of the nests?” asked Mrs. Tompkins. Janet nodded her head smilingly.
“Have you any other hens besides those old ones?” added the visitor.
“No, only a setting hen. Want to see her? Come right in and tell me what you think of her.”
Mrs. Tompkins followed Janet through the door but when she saw the setting-hen trying to peck herself continually with her bill, and saw that the feathers were all gone from her neck, then she saw another hen on a roost, constantly scratching and picking under its feathers, a light dawned upon her.