The Ballygullion Creamery Society, Limited.
From “Ballygullion.”
By Lynn Doyle.
’Twas the man from the Department of Agriculture comin’ down to give a lecture on poultry an’ dairy-farmin’, that set the ball a-rollin’.
The whole farmers av the counthry gathered in to hear him, an’ for days afther it was over, there was no talk at all barrin’ about hens an’ crame, an’ iverybody had a schame av their own to propose.
Ould Miss Armitage ap at the Hall was on for encouragin’ poultry-farmin’; an’ give a prize for the best layin’ hen in Ballygullion, that riz more scunners in the counthry than the twelfth av July itself. There was a powerful stir about it, an’ near iverybody enthered.
Deaf Pether of the Bog’s wife was an easy winner if her hen hadn’t died, an’ nothin’ would satisfy her but it was poisoned; though divil a all killed it but the gorges of Indian male the ould woman kept puttin’ intil it.
Ivery time the hen laid she give it an extra dose of male, “to encourage the crather,” as she said; an’ wan day it laid a double-yolked wan, she put a charge intil it that stretched it out stiff in half-an-hour.
Afther that there was no doubt but Larry Thomas’s wife would win the prize; for, before the end av the month Miss Armitage had allowed for the test, her hen was above a dozen ahead av iverybody else’s.