“That’s so! I might take those big white hens with the yellow legs,” replied Janet.
“Yes, they’re nice-looking, too. Those dappled ones are not a bit picturesque; nor are those smaller hens with red-brown plumage. The white ones will look so nice walking around our lawn.”
So Janet selected six of the largest white hens she could find in the entire flock of several hundred chickens. Mr. Ames remonstrated in vain that she had better take Rhode Island Reds, or some of the guinea hens instead. She wanted the big white ones.
“And we’ll take that lovely rooster with the wonderful tail,” added Janet, selecting one with marvellous hues in his cock-plumes when the sun changed its colors to variegated beauty.
“He ain’t no good fer a rooster, Miss,” said Mr. Ames.
Natalie whispered advice again. “Janet, I believe he wants to keep him for himself. Don’t let him do it.”
“Mr. Ames, I’ll take the one with those pretty feathers, or I won’t buy any!” declared Janet firmly.
“Oh, all right, Miss. I don’t care what you choose as long as you want them. But I’m tellin’ you-all, them hens is old and that rooster is sickly,” explained Mr. Ames, in a tone that said plainly: “I wash my hands of all your future complaints.”
“Now how about the young chicks you told us about? Can I buy some of them?” asked Janet, when hens and rooster were noted on a paper.
“Yeh; come with me and I’ll show you the kind you’d best get to start with. They’re about three to four weeks old and kin scratch fer themselves and eat whatever they find. You kin let them run wild, and they’ll get stronger that way.”