“You see the Doctor’s place was alongside the widder Gezot’s, and she had a numerous assortment of hens, specimens from cold countries, with feathers clear down to thar toe nails; and others from bilin’ hot districts, with no feathers at all onto ’em, ‘ceptin’ a few downy substitutes frillin’ around the neck. They were continually a-gettin’ into his garden and a sprawlin’ round in the soft beds thar.
“He was pooty mad over it too, for he prided himself on razin’ early vegetables, and two or three times he cautioned her to look arter her p’ultry, or he’d gin ’em a dose that would warm thar little gizzards for em’ if he was any judge of drugs.
“The widder Gezot was a plaguey stirrin’ little woman, one that was allers willin’ to flounder ahead the best way she could. Being myself somewhat interested in the lady, I used to ginnerally chime in when she got into any difficulty.
“She soon told me what Dr. Tweezer said about the hens; so we set in, and poked ’em, and stuck feathers through their bills, and did all we could, except wringing their necks, to keep ’em out of his garden.
“But hens are hens, you know, and the warm sand makes ’em feel mi’ty nice, I reckon. They still managed to git through the fence, or over it, and hold caucuses in the Doctor’s onion beds. One day arter I had bin down town talkin’ politics with the boys thar, I was settin’ on the widder’s door-step smokin’ and musin’ like, when I see her hens come a-rustlin’ hum as though forty hawks were a-stirrin’ ’em up. They p’inted straight for the water trough, and after takin’ about two dips into it, commenced the wildest gymnastic feats you ever see, flip-flopin’ around, stannin’ on thar heads, and then on thar tails. Finally they quieted down, and turnin’ feet up, lay thar dead as the chips around ’em.
“I more than suspected Dr. Tweezer had gin ’em a dose of arsenic or some other mi’ty tellin’ drug. So I jest riz up quietly and took a look over into his yard, and sure enough thar he was, a-staggerin’ and squirmin’ around, a-holdin’ of his sides, and e’enmost a-bustin’ with in’ard laughter. Now this sort of upsot me. Not that I cared so much about the widder’s chickens, but I didn’t like to see a feller so mi’ty tickled over a mean trick. So I went prancin’ around to the Doctor’s yard pooty durned lively, a-pullin’ off my coat as I ran. I cal’lated I couldn’t devote much time to strippin’ arter I got in thar.
GOING FOR THE DOCTOR.
“His back was towards me, and he never suspicioned I was comin’, but stooped over warpin’ around and sort of unwittin’ly invitin’ a kick.
“‘It’s mi’ty funny business, a-pizenin’ chickens, isn’t it?’ I ses, jest that way, and at the same time I gin him such a hoist, that I sent him playin’ leap-frog mor’n fifteen feet, and for a few moments I reckon he thought he had backed up ag’inst a batterin’ ram.