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diff --git a/1867.txt b/1867.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..186e9a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/1867.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2476 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Diary of a Goose Girl, by Kate Douglas +Smith Wiggin, Illustrated by Claude A. Shepperson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Diary of a Goose Girl + + +Author: Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin + + + +Release Date: May 15, 2007 [eBook #1867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL*** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1902 Gay and Bird edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + +{Book cover: cover.jpg} + + + + + +THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL + + +BY +KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY +CLAUDE A. SHEPPERSON + +GAY AND BIRD +22 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND +LONDON +1902 + +{I looked about me with what Stevenson calls a 'fine dizzy, muddle-headed +job': p01.jpg} + +TO THE HENS, DUCKS, AND GEESE +WHO SO KINDLY GAVE ME +SITTINGS FOR THESE +SKETCHES THE BOOK +IS GRATEFULLY +INSCRIBED + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +{Thornycroft House: p1a.jpg} + +THORNYCROFT FARM, near Barbury Green, July 1, 190-. + +{Picture of woman and goose: p1b.jpg} + +In alluding to myself as a Goose Girl, I am using only the most modest of +my titles; for I am also a poultry-maid, a tender of Belgian hares and +rabbits, and a shepherdess; but I particularly fancy the role of Goose +Girl, because it recalls the German fairy tales of my early youth, when I +always yearned, but never hoped, to be precisely what I now am. + +As I was jolting along these charming Sussex roads the other day, a fat +buff pony and a tippy cart being my manner of progression, I chanced upon +the village of Barbury Green. + +One glance was enough for any woman, who, having eyes to see, could see +with them; but I made assurance doubly sure by driving about a little, +struggling to conceal my new-born passion from the stable-boy who was my +escort. Then, it being high noon of a cloudless day, I descended from +the trap and said to the astonished yokel: "You may go back to the +Hydropathic; I am spending a month or two here. Wait a moment--I'll send +a message, please!" + +I then scribbled a word or two to those having me in custody. + +"I am very tired of people," the note ran, "and want to rest myself by +living a while with things. Address me (if you must) at Barbury Green +post-office, or at all events send me a box of simple clothing +there--nothing but shirts and skirts, please. I cannot forget that I am +only twenty miles from Oxenbridge (though it might be one hundred and +twenty, which is the reason I adore it), but I rely upon you to keep an +honourable distance yourselves, and not to divulge my place of retreat to +others, especially to--you know whom! Do not pursue me. I will never be +taken alive!" + +Having cut, thus, the cable that bound me to civilisation, and having +seen the buff pony and the dazed yokel disappear in a cloud of dust, I +looked about me with what Stevenson calls a "fine, dizzy, muddle-headed +joy," the joy of a successful rebel or a liberated serf. Plenty of money +in my purse--that was unromantic, of course, but it simplified +matters--and nine hours of daylight remaining in which to find a lodging. + +{Life converges there, just at the public duck-pond: p3.jpg} + +The village is one of the oldest, and I am sure it must be one of the +quaintest, in England. It is too small to be printed on the map (an +honour that has spoiled more than one Arcadia), so pray do not look +there, but just believe in it, and some day you may be rewarded by +driving into it by chance, as I did, and feel the same Columbus thrill +running, like an electric current, through your veins. I withhold +specific geographical information in order that you may not miss that +Columbus thrill, which comes too seldom in a world of railroads. + +The Green is in the very centre of Barbury village, and all civic, +political, family, and social life converges there, just at the public +duck-pond--a wee, sleepy lake with a slope of grass-covered stones by +which the ducks descend for their swim. + +The houses are set about the Green like those in a toy village. They are +of old brick, with crumpled, up-and-down roofs of deep-toned red, and +tufts of stonecrop growing from the eaves. Diamond-paned windows, half +open, admit the sweet summer air; and as for the gardens in front, it +would seem as if the inhabitants had nothing to do but work in them, +there is such a riotous profusion of colour and bloom. To add to the +effect, there are always pots of flowers hanging from the trees, blue +flax and yellow myrtle; and cages of Java sparrows and canaries singing +joyously, as well they may in such a paradise. + +{The houses are set about the Green: p5.jpg} + +The shops are idyllic, too, as if Nature had seized even the man of trade +and made him subservient to her designs. The general draper's, where I +fitted myself out for a day or two quite easily, is set back in a tangle +of poppies and sweet peas, Madonna lilies and Canterbury bells. The shop +itself has a gay awning, and what do you think the draper has suspended +from it, just as a picturesque suggestion to the passer-by? Suggestion I +call it, because I should blush to use the word advertisement in +describing anything so dainty and decorative. Well, then, garlands of +shoes, if you please! Baby bootlets of bronze; tiny ankle-ties in +yellow, blue, and scarlet kid; glossy patent-leather pumps shining in the +sun, with festoons of slippers at the corners, flowery slippers in +imitation Berlin wool-work. If you make this picture in your mind's-eye, +just add a window above the awning, and over the fringe of marigolds in +the window-box put the draper's wife dancing a rosy-cheeked baby. Alas! +my words are only black and white, I fear, and this picture needs a +palette drenched in primary colours. + +Along the street, a short distance, is the old watchmaker's. Set in the +hedge at the gate is a glass case with _Multum in Parvo_ painted on the +woodwork. Within, a little stand of trinkets revolves slowly; as slowly, +I imagine, as the current of business in that quiet street. The house +stands a trifle back and is covered thickly with ivy, while over the +entrance-door of the shop is a great round clock set in a green frame of +clustering vine. The hands pointed to one when I passed the watchmaker's +garden with its thicket of fragrant lavender and its murmuring bees; so I +went in to the sign of the "Strong i' the Arm" for some cold luncheon, +determining to patronise "The Running Footman" at the very next +opportunity. Neither of these inns is starred by Baedeker, and this fact +adds the last touch of enchantment to the picture. + +The landlady at the "Strong i' the Arm" stabbed me in the heart by +telling me that there were no apartments to let in the village, and that +she had no private sitting-room in the inn; but she speedily healed the +wound by saying that I might be accommodated at one of the farm-houses in +the vicinity. Did I object to a farm-'ouse? Then she could cheerfully +recommend the Evan's farm, only 'alf a mile away. She 'ad understood +from Miss Phoebe Evan, who sold her poultry, that they would take one +lady lodger if she didn't wish much waiting upon. + +In my present mood I was in search of the strenuous life, and eager to +wait, rather than to be waited upon; so I walked along the edge of the +Green, wishing that some mentally unbalanced householder would take a +sudden fancy to me and ask me to come in and lodge awhile. I suppose +these families live under their roofs of peach-blow tiles, in the midst +of their blooming gardens, for a guinea a week or thereabouts; yet if +they "undertook" me (to use their own phrase), the bill for my humble +meals and bed would be at least double that. I don't know that I blame +them; one should have proper compensation for admitting a world-stained +lodger into such an Eden. + +When I was searching for rooms a week ago, I chanced upon a pretty +cottage where the woman had sometimes let apartments. She showed me the +premises and asked me if I would mind taking my meals in her own dining- +room, where I could be served privately at certain hours: and, since she +had but the one sitting-room, would I allow her to go on using it +occasionally? also, if I had no special preference, would I take the +second-sized bedroom and leave her in possession of the largest one, +which permitted her to have the baby's crib by her bedside? She thought +I should be quite as comfortable, and it was her opinion that in making +arrangements with lodgers, it was a good plan not to "bryke up the 'ome +any more than was necessary." + +"Bryke up the 'ome!" That is seemingly the malignant purpose with which +I entered Barbury Green. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +July 4th. + +Enter the family of Thornycroft Farm, of which I am already a member in +good and regular standing. + +I introduce Mrs. Heaven first, for she is a self-saturated person who +would never forgive the insult should she receive any lower place. + +She welcomed me with the statement: "We do not take lodgers here, nor +boarders; no lodgers, nor boarders, but we do occasionally admit paying +guests, those who look as if they would appreciate the quietude of the +plyce and be willing as you might say to remunerate according." + +{Mrs. Heaven: p10.jpg} + +I did not mind at this particular juncture what I was called, so long as +the epithet was comparatively unobjectionable, so I am a paying guest, +therefore, and I expect to pay handsomely for the handsome appellation. +Mrs. Heaven is short and fat; she fills her dress as a pin-cushion fills +its cover; she wears a cap and apron, and she is so full of platitudes +that she would have burst had I not appeared as a providential outlet for +them. Her accent is not of the farm, but of the town, and smacks wholly +of the marts of trade. She is repetitious, too, as well as +platitudinous. "I 'ope if there's anythink you require you will let us +know, let us know," she says several times each day; and whenever she +enters my sitting-room she prefaces her conversation with the remark: "I +trust you are finding it quiet here, miss? It's the quietude of the +plyce that is its charm, yes, the quietude. And yet" (she dribbles on) +"it wears on a body after a while, miss. I often go into Woodmucket to +visit one of my sons just for the noise, simply for the noise, miss, for +nothink else in the world but the noise. There's nothink like noise for +soothing nerves that is worn threadbare with the quietude, miss, or at +least that's my experience; and yet to a strynger the quietude of the +plyce is its charm, undoubtedly its chief charm; and that is what our +paying guests always say, although our charges are somewhat higher than +other plyces. If there's anythink you require, miss, I 'ope you'll +mention it. There is not a commodious assortment in Barbury Green, but +we can always send the pony to Woodmucket in case of urgency. Our paying +guest last summer was a Mrs. Pollock, and she was by way of having sudden +fancies. Young and unmarried though you are, miss, I think you will tyke +my meaning without my speaking plyner? Well, at six o'clock of a rainy +afternoon, she was seized with an unaccountable desire for vegetable +marrows, and Mr. 'Eaven put the pony in the cart and went to Woodmucket +for them, which is a great advantage to be so near a town and yet 'ave +the quietude." + +{Mr. Heaven: p11.jpg} + +Mr. Heaven is merged, like Mr. Jellyby, in the more shining qualities of +his wife. A line of description is too long for him. Indeed, I can +think of no single word brief enough, at least in English. The Latin +"nil" will do, since no language is rich in words of less than three +letters. He is nice, kind, bald, timid, thin, and so colourless that he +can scarcely be discerned save in a strong light. When Mrs. Heaven goes +out into the orchard in search of him, I can hardly help calling from my +window, "Bear a trifle to the right, Mrs. Heaven--now to the left--just +in front of you now--if you put out your hands you will touch him." + +Phoebe, aged seventeen, is the daughter of the house. She is virtuous, +industrious, conscientious, and singularly destitute of physical charm. +She is more than plain; she looks as if she had been planned without any +definite purpose in view, made of the wrong materials, been badly put +together, and never properly finished off; but "plain" after all is a +relative word. Many a plain girl has been married for her beauty; and +now and then a beauty, falling under a cold eye, has been thought plain. + +Phoebe has her compensations, for she is beloved by, and reciprocates the +passion of, the Woodmancote carrier, Woodmucket being the English manner +of pronouncing the place of his abode. If he "carries" as energetically +for the great public as he fetches for Phoebe, then he must be a rising +and a prosperous man. He brings her daily, wild strawberries, cherries, +birds' nests, peacock feathers, sea-shells, green hazel-nuts, samples of +hens' food, or bouquets of wilted field flowers tied together tightly and +held with a large, moist, loving hand. He has fine curly hair of sandy +hue, which forms an aureole on his brow, and a reddish beard, which makes +another inverted aureole to match, round his chin. One cannot look at +him, especially when the sun shines through him, without thinking how +lovely he would be if stuffed and set on wheels, with a little string to +drag him about. + +{The Woodmancote carrier: p13.jpg} + +Phoebe confided to me that she was on the eve of loving the postman when +the carrier came across her horizon. + +"It doesn't do to be too hysty, does it, miss?" she asked me as we were +weeding the onion bed. "I was to give the postman his answer on the +Monday night, and it was on the Monday morning that Mr. Gladwish made his +first trip here as carrier. I may say I never wyvered from that moment, +and no more did he. When I think how near I came to promising the +postman it gives me a turn." (I can understand that, for I once met the +man I nearly promised years before to marry, and we both experienced such +a sense of relief at being free instead of bound that we came near +falling in love for sheer joy.) + +{Picture of toy on wheels: p14.jpg} + +The last and most important member of the household is the Square Baby. +His name is Albert Edward, and he is really five years old and no baby at +all; but his appearance on this planet was in the nature of a complete +surprise to all parties concerned, and he is spoiled accordingly. He has +a square head and jaw, square shoulders, square hands and feet. He is +red and white and solid and stolid and slow-witted, as the young of his +class commonly are, and will make a bulwark of the nation in course of +time, I should think; for England has to produce a few thousand such +square babies every year for use in the colonies and in the standing +army. Albert Edward has already a military gait, and when he has +acquired a habit of obedience at all comparable with his power of +command, he will be able to take up the white man's burden with +distinguished success. Meantime I can never look at him without +marvelling how the English climate can transmute bacon and eggs, tea and +the solid household loaf into such radiant roses and lilies as bloom upon +his cheeks and lips. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +July 8th. + +Thornycroft is by way of being a small poultry farm. + +In reaching it from Barbury Green, you take the first left-hand road, go +till you drop, and there you are. + +It reminds me of my "grandmother's farm at Older." Did you know the song +when you were a child?-- + + My grandmother had a very fine farm + 'Way down in the fields of Older. + With a cluck-cluck here, + And a cluck-cluck there, + Here and there a cluck-cluck, + Cluck-cluck here and there, + Down in the fields at Older. + +It goes on for ever by the simple subterfuge of changing a few words in +each verse. + + My grandmother had a very fine farm + 'Way down in the fields of Older. + With a quack-quack here, + And a quack-quack there, + Here and there a quack-quack, + Quack-quack here and there, + Down in the fields at Older. + +This is followed by the gobble-gobble, moo-moo, baa-baa, etc., as long as +the laureate's imagination and the infant's breath hold good. The tune +is pretty, and I do not know, or did not, when I was young, a more +fascinating lyric. + +{The sitting hens: p17.jpg} + +Thornycroft House must have belonged to a country gentleman once upon a +time, or to more than one; men who built on a bit here and there once in +a hundred years, until finally we have this charmingly irregular and +dilapidated whole. You go up three steps into Mrs. Heaven's room, down +two into mine, while Phoebe's is up in a sort of turret with long, narrow +lattices opening into the creepers. There are crooked little +stair-cases, passages that branch off into other passages and lead +nowhere in particular; I can't think of a better house in which to play +hide and seek on a wet day. In front, what was once, doubtless, a green, +is cut up into greens; to wit, a vegetable garden, where the onions, +turnips, and potatoes grow cosily up to the very door-sill; the +utilitarian aspect of it all being varied by some scarlet-runners and a +scattering of poppies on either side of the path. + +The Belgian hares have their habitation in a corner fifty feet distant; +one large enclosure for poultry lies just outside the sweetbrier hedge; +the others, with all the houses and coops, are in the meadow at the back, +where also our tumbler pigeons are kept. + +Phoebe attends to the poultry; it is her department. Mr. Heaven has +neither the force nor the _finesse_ required, and the gentle reader who +thinks these qualities unneeded in so humble a calling has only to spend +a few days at Thornycroft to be convinced. Mrs. Heaven would be of use, +but she is dressing the Square Baby in the morning and putting him to bed +at night just at the hours when the feathered young things are undergoing +the same operation. + +A Goose Girl, like a poet, is sometimes born, sometimes otherwise. I am +of the born variety. No training was necessary; I put my head on my +pillow as a complicated product of modern civilisation on a Tuesday +night, and on a Wednesday morning I awoke as a Goose Girl. + +{Hens . . . go to bed at a virtuous hour: p19.jpg} + +My destiny slumbered during the day, but at eight o'clock I heard a +terrific squawking in the direction of the duck-ponds, and, aimlessly +drifting in that direction, I came upon Phoebe trying to induce ducks and +drakes, geese and ganders, to retire for the night. They have to be +driven into enclosures behind fences of wire netting, fastened into +little rat-proof boxes, or shut into separate coops, so as to be safe +from their natural enemies, the rats and foxes; which, obeying, I +suppose, the law of supply and demand, abound in this neighbourhood. The +old ganders are allowed their liberty, being of such age, discretion, +sagacity, and pugnacity that they can be trusted to fight their own +battles. + +{Ducks and geese . . . would roam the streets till morning: p20.jpg} + +The intelligence of hens, though modest, is of such an order that it +prompts them to go to bed at a virtuous hour of their own accord; but +ducks and geese have to be materially assisted, or I believe they would +roam till morning. Never did small boy detest and resist being carried +off to his nursery as these dullards, young and old, detest and resist +being driven to theirs. Whether they suffer from insomnia, or nightmare, +or whether they simply prefer the sweet air of liberty (and death) to the +odour of captivity and the coop, I have no means of knowing. + +{The pole was not long enough: p21.jpg} + +Phoebe stood by one of the duck-ponds, a long pole in her hand, and a +helpless expression in that doughlike countenance of hers, where aimless +contours and features unite to make a kind of facial blur. (What does +the carrier see in it?) The pole was not long enough to reach the ducks, +and Phoebe's method lacked spirit and adroitness, so that it was natural, +perhaps, that they refused to leave the water, the evening being warm, +with an uncommon fine sunset. + +{They . . . waddle under the wrong fence: p22.jpg} + +I saw the situation at once and ran to meet it with a glow of interest +and anticipation. If there is anything in the world I enjoy, it is +making somebody do something that he doesn't want to do; and if, when +victory perches upon my banner, the somebody can be brought to say that +he ought to have done it without my making him, that adds the +unforgettable touch to pleasure, though seldom, alas! does it happen. +Then ensued the delightful and stimulating hour that has now become a +feature of the day; an hour in which the remembrance of the table-d'hote +dinner at the Hydro, going on at identically the same time, only stirs me +to a keener joy and gratitude. + +{Honking and hissing like a bewildered orchestra: p23.jpg} + +{Harried and pecked by the big geese: p24.jpg} + +The ducks swim round in circles, hide under the willows, and attempt to +creep into the rat-holes in the banks, a stupidity so crass that it +merits instant death, which it somehow always escapes. Then they come +out in couples and waddle under the wrong fence into the lower meadow, +fly madly under the tool-house, pitch blindly in with the sitting hens, +and out again in short order, all the time quacking and squawking, +honking and hissing like a bewildered orchestra. By dint of splashing +the water with poles, throwing pebbles, beating the shrubs at the pond's +edges, "shooing" frantically with our skirts, crawling beneath bars to +head them off, and prodding them from under bushes to urge them on, we +finally get the older ones out of the water and the younger ones into +some sort of relation to their various retreats; but, owing to their lack +of geography, hatred of home, and general recalcitrancy, they none of +them turn up in the right place and have to be sorted out. We uncover +the top of the little house, or the enclosure as it may be, or reach in +at the door, and, seizing the struggling victim, drag him forth and take +him where he should have had the wit to go in the first instance. The +weak ones get in with the strong and are in danger of being trampled; two +May goslings that look almost full-grown have run into a house with a +brood of ducklings a week old. There are twenty-seven crowded into one +coop, five in another, nineteen in another; the gosling with one leg has +to come out, and the duckling threatened with the gapes; their place is +with the "invaleeds," as Phoebe calls them, but they never learn the +location of the hospital, nor have the slightest scruple about spreading +contagious diseases. + +{In solitary splendour: p25.jpg} + +Finally, when we have separated and sorted exhaustively, an operation in +which Phoebe shows a delicacy of discrimination and a fearlessness of +attack amounting to genius, we count the entire number and find several +missing. Searching for their animate or inanimate bodies, we "scoop" one +from under the tool-house, chance upon two more who are being harried and +pecked by the big geese in the lower meadow, and discover one sailing by +himself in solitary splendour in the middle of the deserted pond, a look +of evil triumph in his bead-like eye. Still we lack one young duckling, +and he at length is found dead by the hedge. A rat has evidently seized +him and choked him at a single throttle, but in such haste that he has +not had time to carry away the tiny body. + +"Poor think!" says Phoebe tearfully; "it looks as if it was 'it with some +kind of a wepping. I don't know whatever to do with the rats, they're +gettin' that fearocious!" + +Before I was admitted into daily contact with the living goose (my +previous intercourse with him having been carried on when gravy and +stuffing obscured his true personality), I thought him a very Dreyfus +among fowls, a sorely slandered bird, to whom justice had never been +done; for even the gentle Darwin is hard upon him. My opinion is +undergoing some slight modifications, but I withhold judgment at present, +hoping that some of the follies, faults, vagaries, and limitations that I +observe in Phoebe's geese may be due to Phoebe's educational methods, +which were, before my advent, those of the darkest ages. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +{Dryshod warnings which are never heeded: p27.jpg} + +July 9th. + +By the time the ducks and geese are incarcerated for the night, the +reasonable, sensible, practical-minded hens--especially those whose +mentality is increased and whose virtue is heightened by the +responsibilities of motherhood--have gone into their own particular rat- +proof boxes, where they are waiting in a semi-somnolent state to have the +wire doors closed, the bricks set against them, and the bits of sacking +flung over the tops to keep out the draught. We have a great many young +families, both ducklings and chicks, but we have no duck mothers at +present. The variety of bird which Phoebe seems to have bred during the +past year may be called the New Duck, with certain radical ideas about +woman's sphere. What will happen to Thornycroft if we develop a New Hen +and a New Cow, my imagination fails to conceive. There does not seem to +be the slightest danger for the moment, however, and our hens lay and sit +and sit and lay as if laying and sitting were the twin purposes of life. + +{The mother goes off to bed: p28.jpg} + +The nature of the hen seems to broaden with the duties of maternity, but +I think myself that we presume a little upon her amiability and natural +motherliness. It is one thing to desire a family of one's own, to lay +eggs with that idea in view, to sit upon them three long weeks and hatch +out and bring up a nice brood of chicks. It must be quite another to +have one's eggs abstracted day by day and eaten by a callous public, the +nest filled with deceitful substitutes, and at the end of a dull and +weary period of hatching to bring into the world another person's +children--children, too, of the wrong size, the wrong kind of bills and +feet, and, still more subtle grievance, the wrong kind of instincts, +leading them to a dangerous aquatic career, one which the mother may not +enter to guide, guard, and teach; one on the brink of which she must ever +stand, uttering dryshod warnings which are never heeded. They grow used +to this strange order of things after a bit, it is true, and are less +anxious and excited. When the duck-brood returns safely again and again +from what the hen-mother thinks will prove a watery grave, she becomes +accustomed to the situation, I suppose. I find that at night she stands +by the pond for what she considers a decent, self-respecting length of +time, calling the ducklings out of the water; then, if they refuse to +come, the mother goes off to bed and leaves them to Providence, or Phoebe. + +{Cornelia and the web-footed Gracchi: p29.jpg} + +The brown hen that we have named Cornelia is the best mother, the one who +waits longest and most patiently for the web-footed Gracchi to finish +their swim. + +When a chick is taken out of the incubytor (as Phoebe calls it) and +refused by all the other hens, Cornelia generally accepts it, though she +had twelve of her own when we began using her as an orphan asylum. "Wings +are made to stretch," she seems to say cheerfully, and with a kind glance +of her round eye she welcomes the wanderer and the outcast. She even +tended for a time the offspring of an absent-minded, light-headed +pheasant who flew over a four-foot wall and left her young behind her to +starve; it was not a New Pheasant, either; for the most conservative and +old-fashioned of her tribe occasionally commits domestic solecisms of +this sort. + +{An orphan asylum: p30.jpg} + +There is no telling when, where, or how the maternal instinct will assert +itself. Among our Thornycroft cats is a certain Mrs. Greyskin. She had +not been seen for many days, and Mrs. Heaven concluded that she had +hidden herself somewhere with a family of kittens; but as the supply of +that article with us more than equals the demand, we had not searched for +her with especial zeal. + +{Phoebe and I followed her stealthily: p31.jpg} + +The other day Mrs. Greyskin appeared at the dairy door, and when she had +been fed Phoebe and I followed her stealthily, from a distance. She +walked slowly about as if her mind were quite free from harassing care, +and finally approached a deserted cow-house where there was a great mound +of straw. At this moment she caught sight of us and turned in another +direction to throw us off the scent. We persevered in our intention of +going into her probable retreat, and were cautiously looking for some +sign of life in the haymow, when we heard a soft cackle and a ruffling of +plumage. Coming closer to the sound we saw a black hen brooding a nest, +her bright bead eyes turning nervously from side to side; and, coaxed out +from her protecting wings by youthful curiosity, came four kittens, eyes +wide open, warm, happy, ready for sport! + +The sight was irresistible, and Phoebe ran for Mr. and Mrs. Heaven and +the Square Baby. Mother Hen was not to be embarrassed or daunted, even +if her most sacred feelings were regarded in the light of a cheap +entertainment. She held her ground while one of the kits slid up and +down her glossy back, and two others, more timid, crept underneath her +breast, only daring to put out their pink noses! We retired then for +very shame and met Mrs. Greyskin in the doorway. This should have +thickened the plot, but there is apparently no rivalry nor animosity +between the co-mothers. We watch them every day now, through a window in +the roof. Mother Greyskin visits the kittens frequently, lies down +beside the home nest, and gives them their dinner. While this is going +on Mother Blackwing goes modestly away for a bite, a sup, and a little +exercise, returning to the kittens when the cat leaves them. It is +pretty to see her settle down over the four, fat, furry dumplings, and +they seem to know no difference in warmth or comfort, whichever mother is +brooding them; while, as their eyes have been open for a week, it can no +longer be called a blind error on their part. + +{Coaxed out . . . by youthful curiosity: p33.jpg} + +When we have closed all our small hen-nurseries for the night, there is +still the large house inhabited by the thirty-two full-grown chickens +which Phoebe calls the broilers. I cannot endure the term, and will not +use it. "Now for the April chicks," I say every evening. + +"Do you mean the broilers?" asks Phoebe. + +"I mean the big April chicks," say I. + +"Yes, them are the broilers," says she. + +But is it not disagreeable enough to be a broiler when one's time comes, +without having the gridiron waved in one's face for weeks beforehand? + +{Nine huddle together: p34.jpg} + +The April chicks are all lively and desirous of seeing the world as +thoroughly as possible before going to roost or broil. As a general +thing, we find in the large house sixteen young fowls of the +contemplative, flavourless, resigned-to-the-inevitable variety; three +more (the same three every night) perch on the roof and are driven down; +four (always the same four) cling to the edge of the open door, waiting +to fly off, but not in, when you attempt to close it; nine huddle +together on a place in the grass about forty feet distant, where a small +coop formerly stood in the prehistoric ages. This small coop was one in +which they lodged for a fortnight when they were younger, and when those +absolutely indelible impressions are formed of which we read in +educational maxims. It was taken away long since, but the nine loyal (or +stupid) Casabiancas cling to the sacred spot where its foundations +rested; they accordingly have to be caught and deposited bodily in the +house, and this requires strategy, as they note our approach from a +considerable distance. + +{Of a wandering mind: p35.jpg} + +Finally all are housed but two, the little white cock and the black +pullet, who are still impish and of a wandering mind. Though headed off +in every direction, they fly into the hedges and hide in the underbrush. +We beat the hedge on the other side, but with no avail. We dive into the +thicket of wild roses, sweetbrier, and thistles on our hands and knees, +coming out with tangled hair, scratched noses, and no hens. Then, when +all has been done that human ingenuity can suggest, Phoebe goes to her +late supper and I do sentry-work. I stroll to a safe distance, and, +sitting on one of the rat-proof boxes, watch the bushes with an eagle +eye. Five minutes go by, ten, fifteen; and then out steps the white +cock, stealthily tiptoeing toward the home into which he refused to go at +our instigation. In a moment out creeps the obstinate little beast of a +black pullet from the opposite clump. The wayward pair meet at their own +door, which I have left open a few inches. When all is still I walk +gently down the field, and, warned by previous experiences, approach the +house from behind. I draw the door to softly and quickly; but not so +quickly that the evil-minded and suspicious black pullet hasn't time to +spring out, with a make-believe squawk of fright--that induces three +other blameless chickens to fly down from their perches and set the whole +flock in a flutter. Then I fall from grace and call her a Broiler; and +when, after some minutes of hot pursuit, I catch her by falling over her +in the corner by the goose-pen, I address her as a fat, juicy Broiler +with parsley butter and a bit of bacon. + +{With tangled hair, scratched noses, and no hens: p36.jpg} + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +July 10th. + +At ten thirty or so in the morning the cackling begins. I wonder exactly +what it means! Have the forest-lovers who listen so respectfully to, and +interpret so exquisitely, the notes of birds--have none of them made +psychological investigations of the hen cackle? Can it be simple +elation? One could believe that of the first few eggs, but a hen who has +laid two or three hundred can hardly feel the same exuberant pride and +joy daily. Can it be the excitement incident to successful achievement? +Hardly, because the task is so extremely simple. Eggs are more or less +alike; a little larger or smaller, a trifle whiter or browner; and almost +sure to be quite right as to details; that is, the big end never gets +confused with the little end, they are always ovoid and never spherical, +and the yolk is always inside of the white. As for a soft-shelled egg, +it is so rare an occurrence that the fear of laying one could not set the +whole race of hens in a panic; so there really cannot be any intellectual +or emotional agitation in producing a thing that might be made by a +machine. Can it be simply "fussiness"; since the people who have the +least to do commonly make the most flutter about doing it? + +Perhaps it is merely conversation. "_Cut-cut-cut-cut-cut_-DAH_cut_! . . . +I have finished my strictly fresh egg, have you laid yours? Make +haste, then, for the cock has found a gap in the wire-fence and wants us +to wander in the strawberry-bed. . . . Cut-cut-cut-cut-cut-DAH_cut_ . . . +Every moment is precious, for the Goose Girl will find us, when she +gathers the strawberries for her luncheon . . . Cut-cut-cut-cut! On the +way out we can find sweet places to steal nests . . . Cut-cut-cut! . . . +I am so glad I am not sitting this heavenly morning; it _is_ a dull +life." + +A Lancashire poultryman drifted into Barbury Green yesterday. He is an +old acquaintance of Mr. Heaven, and spent the night and part of the next +day at Thornycroft Farm. He possessed a deal of fowl philosophy, and +tells many a good hen story, which, like fish stories, draw rather +largely on the credulity of the audience. We were sitting in the +rickyard talking comfortably about laying and cackling and kindred +matters when he took his pipe from his mouth and told us the following +tale--not a bad one if you can translate the dialect:-- + +'Aw were once towd as, if yo' could only get th' hen's egg away afooar +she hed sin it, th' hen 'ud think it hed med a mistek an' sit deawn +ageean an' lay another. + +"An' it seemed to me it were a varra sensible way o' lukkin' at it. Sooa +aw set to wark to mek a nest as 'ud tek a rise eawt o' th' hens. An' aw +dud it too. Aw med a nest wi' a fause bottom, th' idea bein' as when a +hen hed laid, th' egg 'ud drop through into a box underneyth. + +"Aw felt varra preawd o' that nest, too, aw con tell yo', an' aw remember +aw felt quite excited when aw see an awd black Minorca, th' best layer as +aw hed, gooa an' settle hersel deawn i' th' nest an' get ready for wark. +Th' hen seemed quite comfortable enough, aw were glad to see, an' geet +through th' operation beawt ony seemin' trouble. + +"Well, aw darsay yo' know heaw a hen carries on as soon as it's laid a +egg. It starts "chuckin'" away like a showman's racket, an' after +tekkin' a good Ink at th' egg to see whether it's a big 'un or a little +'un, gooas eawt an' tells all t'other hens abeawt it. + +"Neaw, this black Minorca, as aw sed, were a owdish bird, an' maybe knew +mooar than aw thowt. Happen it hed laid on a nest wi' a fause bottom +afooar, an' were up to th' trick, but whether or not, aw never see a hen +luk mooar disgusted i' mi life when it lukked i' th' nest an' see as it +hed hed all that trouble fer nowt. + +"It woked reawnd th' nest as if it couldn't believe its own eyes. + +"But it dudn't do as aw expected. Aw expected as it 'ud sit deawn ageean +an' lay another. + +"But it just gi'e one wonderin' sooart o' chuck, an then, after a long +stare reawnd th' hen-coyt, it woked eawt, as mad a hen as aw've ever sin. +Aw fun' eawt after, what th' long stare meant. It were tekkin' farewell! +For if yo'll believe me that hen never laid another egg i' ony o' my +nests. + +"Varra like it laid away in a spot wheear it could hev summat to luk at +when it hed done wark for th' day. + +"Sooa aw lost mi best layer through mi actin', an' aw've never invented +owt sen." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +One learns to be modest by living on a poultry farm, for there are +constant expositions of the most deplorable vanity among the cocks. We +have a couple of pea-fowl who certainly are an addition to the landscape, +as they step mincingly along the square of turf we dignify by the name of +lawn. The head of the house has a most languid and self-conscious strut, +and his microscopic mind is fixed entirely on his splendid trailing tail. +If I could only master his language sufficiently to tell him how +hideously ugly the back view of this gorgeous fan is, when he spreads it +for the edification of the observer in front of him, he would of course +retort that there is a "congregation side" to everything, but I should at +least force him into a defence of his tail and a confession of its +limitations. This would be new and unpleasant, I fancy; and if it +produced no perceptible effect upon his super-arrogant demeanour, I might +remind him that he is likely to be used, eventually, for a feather +duster, unless, indeed, the Heavens are superstitious and prefer to throw +his tail away, rather than bring ill luck and the evil eye into the +house. + +{More pride of bearing, and less to be proud of: p43.jpg} + +The longer I study the cock, whether Black Spanish, White Leghorn, +Dorking, or the common barnyard fowl, the more intimately I am acquainted +with him, the less I am impressed with his character. He has more pride +of bearing, and less to be proud of, than any bird I know. He is +indolent, though he struts pompously over the grass as if the day were +all too short for his onerous duties. He calls the hens about him when I +throw corn from the basket, but many a time I have seen him swallow +hurriedly, and in private, some dainty titbit he has found unexpectedly. +He has no particular chivalry. He gives no special encouragement to his +hen when he becomes a prospective father, and renders little assistance +when the responsibilities become actualities. His only personal message +or contribution to the world is his raucous cock-a-doodle-doo, which, +being uttered most frequently at dawn, is the most ill-timed and +offensive of all musical notes. It is so unnecessary too, as if the day +didn't come soon enough without his warning; but I suppose he is anxious +to waken his hens and get them at their daily task, and so he disturbs +the entire community. In short, I dislike him; his swagger, his +autocratic strut, his greed, his irritating self-consciousness, his +endless parading of himself up and down in a procession of one. + +Of course his character is largely the result of polygamy. His +weaknesses are only what might be expected; and as for the hens, I have +considerable respect for the patience, sobriety, and dignity with which +they endure an institution particularly offensive to all women. In their +case they do not even have the sustaining thought of its being an article +of religion, so they are to be complimented the more. + +There is nothing on earth so feminine as a hen--not womanly, simply +feminine. Those men of insight who write the Woman's Page in the Sunday +newspapers study hens more than women, I sometimes think; at any rate, +their favourite types are all present on this poultry farm. + +Some families of White Leghorns spend most of their time in the rickyard, +where they look extremely pretty, their slender white shapes and red +combs and wattles well set off by the background of golden hayricks. +There is a great oak-tree in one corner, with a tall ladder leaning +against its trunk, and a capital roosting-place on a long branch running +at right angles with the ladder. I try to spend a quarter of an hour +there every night before supper, just for the pleasure of seeing the +feathered "women-folks" mount that ladder. + +A dozen of them surround the foot, waiting restlessly for their turn. One +little white lady flutters up on the lowest round and perches there until +she reviews the past, faces the present, and forecasts the future; during +which time she is gathering courage for the next jump. She cackles, +takes up one foot and then the other, tilts back and forth, holds up her +skirts and drops them again, cocks her head nervously to see whether they +are all staring at her below, gives half a dozen preliminary springs +which mean nothing, declares she can't and won't go up any faster, unties +her bonnet strings and pushes back her hair, pulls down her dress to +cover her toes, and finally alights on the next round, swaying to and fro +until she gains her equilibrium, when she proceeds to enact the same +scene over again. + +All this time the hens at the foot of the ladder are criticising her +methods and exclaiming at the length of time she requires in mounting; +while the cocks stroll about the yard keeping one eye on the ladder, +picking up a seed here and there, and giving a masculine sneer now and +then at the too-familiar scene. They approach the party at intervals, +but only to remark that it always makes a man laugh to see a woman go up +a ladder. The next hen, stirred to the depths by this speech, flies up +entirely too fast, loses her head, tumbles off the top round, and has to +make the ascent over again. Thus it goes on and on, this _petite comedie +humaine_, and I could enjoy it with my whole heart if Mr. Heaven did not +insist on sharing the spectacle with me. He is so inexpressibly dull, so +destitute of humour, that I did not think it likely he would see in the +performance anything more than a flock of hens going up a ladder to +roost. But he did; for there is no man so blind that he cannot see the +follies of women; and, when he forgot himself so far as to utter a few +genial, silly, well-worn reflections upon femininity at large, I turned +upon him and revealed to him some of the characteristics of his own sex, +gained from an exhaustive study of the barnyard fowl of the masculine +gender. He went into the house discomfited, though chuckling a little at +my vehemence; but at least I have made it for ever impossible for him to +watch his hens without an occasional glance at the cocks. + +{Mr. Heaven discomfited: p46.jpg} + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +July 12th. + +O the pathos of a poultry farm! Catherine of Aragon, the black Spanish +hen that stole her nest, brought out nine chicks this morning, and the +business-like and marble-hearted Phoebe has taken them away and given +them to another hen who has only seven. Two mothers cannot be wasted on +these small families--it would not be profitable; and the older mother, +having been tried and found faithful over seven, has been given the other +nine and accepted them. What of the bereft one? She is miserable and +stands about moping and forlorn, but it is no use fighting against the +inevitable; hens' hearts must obey the same laws that govern the rotation +of crops. Catherine of Aragon feels her lot a bitter one just now, but +in time she will succumb, and lay, which is more to the point. + +We have had a very busy evening, beginning with the rats' supper--delicate +sandwiches of bread-and-butter spread with Paris green. + +We have a new brood of seventeen ducklings just hatched this afternoon. +When we came to the nest the yellow and brown bunches of down and fluff +were peeping out from under the hen's wings in the prettiest fashion in +the world. + +"It's a noble hen!" I said to Phoebe. + +"She ain't so nowble as she looks," Phoebe answered grimly. "It was +another 'en that brooded these eggs for near on three weeks and then this +big one come along with a fancy she'd like a family 'erself if she could +steal one without too much trouble; so she drove the rightful 'en off the +nest, finished up the last few days, and 'ere she is in possession of the +ducklings!" + +"Why don't you take them away from her and give them back to the first +hen, who did most of the work?" I asked, with some spirit. + +"Like as not she wouldn't tyke them now," said Phoebe, as she lifted the +hen off the broken egg-shells and moved her gently into a clean box, on a +bed of fresh hay. We put food and drink within reach of the family, and +very proud and handsome that highway robber of a hen looked, as she +stretched her wings over the seventeen easily-earned ducklings. + +Going back to the old nesting-box, I found one egg forgotten among the +shells. It was still warm, and I took it up to run across the field with +it to Phoebe. It was heavy, and the carrying of it was a queer +sensation, inasmuch as it squirmed and "yipped" vociferously in transit, +threatening so unmistakably to hatch in my hand that I was decidedly +nervous. The intrepid little youngster burst his shell as he touched +Phoebe's apron, and has become the strongest and handsomest of the brood. + +All this tending of downy young things, this feeding and putting to bed, +this petting and nursing and rearing, is such pretty, comforting woman's +work. I am sure Phoebe will make a better wife to the carrier for having +been a poultry-maid, and though good enough for most practical purposes +when I came here, I am an infinitely better woman now. I am afraid I was +not particularly nice the last few days at the Hydro. Such a lot of +dull, prosy, inquisitive, bothering old tabbies! Aunt Margaret +furnishing imaginary symptoms enough to keep a fond husband and two +trained nurses distracted; a man I had never encouraged in my life coming +to stay in the neighbourhood and turning up daily for rejection; another +man taking rooms at the very hotel with the avowed purpose of making my +life a burden; and on the heels of both, a widow of thirty-five in full +chase! Small wonder I thought it more dignified to retire than to +compete, and so I did. + +I need not, however, have cut the threads that bound me to Oxenbridge +with such particularly sharp scissors, nor given them such a vicious +snap; for, so far as I can observe, the little world of which I imagined +myself the sun continues to revolve, and, probably, about some other +centre. I can well imagine who has taken up that delightful but somewhat +exposed and responsible position--it would be just like her! + +{Threatened . . . to hatch in my hand: p51.jpg} + +I am perfectly happy where I am; it is not that; but it seems so strange +that they can be perfectly happy without me, after all that they--after +all that was said on the subject not many days ago. Nothing turns out as +one expects. There have been no hot pursuits, no rewards offered, no +bills posted, no printed placards issued describing the beauty and charms +of a young person who supposed herself the cynosure of every eye. Heigh- +ho! What does it matter, after all? One can always be a Goose Girl! + +* * * * * + +I wonder if the hen mother is quite, quite satisfied with her ducklings! +Do you suppose the fact of hatching and brooding them breaks down all the +sense of difference? Does she not sometimes reflect that if her children +were the ordinary sort, and not these changelings, she would be enjoying +certain pretty little attentions dear to a mother's heart? The chicks +would be pecking the food off her broad beak with their tiny ones, and +jumping on her back to slide down her glossy feathers. They would be far +nicer to cuddle, too, so small and graceful and light; the changelings +are a trifle solid and brawny. And personally, just as a matter of +taste, would she not prefer wee, round, glancing heads, and pointed +beaks, peeping from under her wings, to these teaspoon-shaped things +larger than her own? I wonder! + +We are training fourteen large young chickens to sit on the perches in +their new house, instead of huddling together on the floor as has been +their habit, because we discover rat-holes under the wire flooring +occasionally, and fear that toes may be bitten. At nine o'clock Phoebe +and I lift the chickens one by one, and, as it were, glue them to their +perches, squawking. Three nights have we gone patiently through with +this performance, but they have not learned the lesson. The ducks and +geese are, however, greatly improved by the application of advanced +educational methods, and the _regime_ of perfect order and system +instituted by Me begins to show results. + +{One can always be a Goose Girl: p53.jpg} + +There is no more violent splashing and pebbling, racing, chasing, +separating. The pole, indeed, still has to be produced, but at the first +majestic wave of my hand they scuttle toward the shore. The geese turn +to the right, cross the rickyard, and go to their pen; the May ducks turn +to the left for their coops, the June ducks follow the hens to the top +meadow, and even the idiot gosling has an inspiration now and then and +stumbles on his own habitation. + +{The geese . . . cross the rickyard: p54.jpg} + +Mrs. Heaven has no reverence for the principles of Comenius, Pestalozzi, +or Herbert Spencer as applied to poultry, and when the ducks and geese +came out of the pond badly the other night and went waddling and tumbling +and hissing all over creation, did not approve of my sending them back +into the pond to start afresh. + +"I consider it a great waste of time, of good time, miss," she said; +"and, after all, do you consider that educated poultry will be any better +eating, or that it will lay more than one egg a day, miss?" + +I have given the matter some attention, and I fear Mrs. Heaven is right. +A duck, a goose, or a hen in which I have developed a larger brain, +implanted a sense of duty, or instilled an idea of self-government, is +likely, on the whole, to be leaner, not fatter. There is nothing like +obeying the voice of conscience for taking the flesh off one's bones; +and, speaking of conscience, Phoebe, whose metaphysics are of the farm +farmy, says that hers "felt like a hunlaid hegg for dyes" after she had +jilted the postman. + +As to the eggs, I am sure the birds will go on laying one a day for 'tis +their nature to. Whether the product of the intelligent, conscious, +logical fowl, will be as rich in quality as that of the uneducated and +barbaric bird, I cannot say; but it ought at least to be equal to the +Denmark egg eaten now by all Londoners; and if, perchance, left uneaten, +it is certain to be a very superior wife and mother. + +While we are discussing the subject of educating poultry, I confess that +the case of Cannibal Ann gives me much anxiety. Twice in her short +career has she been under suspicion of eating her own eggs, but Phoebe +has never succeeded in catching her _in flagrante delicto_. That eminent +detective service was reserved for me, and I have been haunted by the +picture ever since. It is an awful sight to witness a hen gulp her own +newly-laid fresh egg, yolk, white, shell, and all; to realise that you +have fed, sheltered, chased, and occasionally run in, a being possessed +of no moral sense, a being likely to set a bad example, inculcate vicious +habits among her innocent sisters, and lower the standard of an entire +poultry-yard. _The Young Poultry Keeper's Friend_ gives us no advice on +this topic, and we do not know whether to treat Cannibal Ann as the +victim of a disease, or as a confirmed criminal; whether to administer +remedies or cut her off in the flower of her youth. + +{Poor little chap, . . . 'e never was a fyvorite: p56.jpg} + +We have had a sad scene to-night. A chick has been ailing all day, and +when we shut up the brood we found him dead in a corner. + +Phoebe put him on the ground while she busied herself about the coop. The +other chicks came out and walked about the dead one again and again, +eyeing him curiously. + +"Poor little chap!" said Phoebe. "'E's never 'ad a mother! 'E was an +incubytor chicken, and wherever I took 'im 'e was picked at. There was +somethink wrong with 'im; 'e never was a fyvorite!" + +I put the fluffy body into a hole in the turf, and strewed a handful of +grass over him. "Sad little epitaph!" I thought. "He never was a +fyvorite!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +July 13th. + +I like to watch the Belgian hares eating their trifolium or pea-pods or +grass; graceful, gentle things they are, crowding about Mr. Heaven, and +standing prettily, not greedily, on their hind legs, to reach for the +clover, their delicate nostrils and whiskers all a-quiver with +excitement. + +As I look out of my window in the dusk I can see one of the mothers +galloping across the enclosure, the soft white lining of her tail acting +as a beacon-light to the eight infant hares following her, a quaint +procession of eight white spots in it glancing line. In the darkest +night those baby creatures could follow their mother through grass or +hedge or thicket, and she would need no warning note to show them where +to flee in case of danger. "All you have to do is to follow the white +night-light that I keep in the lining of my tail," she says, when she is +giving her first maternal lectures; and it seems a beneficent provision +of Nature. To be sure, Mr. Heaven took his gun and went out to shoot +wild rabbits to-day, and I noted that he marked them by those same self- +betraying tails, as they scuttled toward their holes or leaped toward the +protecting cover of the hedge; so it does not appear whether Nature is on +the side of the farmer or the rabbit . . . + +{Mr. Heaven . . . went out to shoot wild rabbits: p59.jpg} + +There is as much comedy and as much tragedy in poultry life as anywhere, +and already I see rifts within lutes. We have in a cage a French +gentleman partridge married to a Hungarian lady of defective sight. He +paces back and forth in the pen restlessly, anything but content with the +domestic fireside. One can see plainly that he is devoted to the +Boulevards, and that if left to his own inclinations he would never have +chosen any spouse but a thorough Parisienne. + +The Hungarian lady is blind of one eye, from some stray shot, I suppose. +She is melancholy at all times, and occasionally goes so far as to beat +her head against the wire netting. If liberated, Mr. Heaven says that +her blindness would only expose her to death at the hands of the first +sportsman, and it always seems to me as if she knows this, and is ever +trying to decide whether a loveless marriage is any better than the tomb. + +Then, again, the great, grey gander is, for some mysterious reason, out +of favour with the entire family. He is a noble and amiable bird, by far +the best all-round character in the flock, for dignity of mien and large- +minded common-sense. What is the treatment vouchsafed to this blameless +husband and father? One that puts anybody out of sorts with virtue and +its scant rewards. To begin with, the others will not allow him to go +into the pond. There is an organised cabal against it, and he sits +solitary on the bank, calm and resigned, but, naturally, a trifle hurt. +His favourite retreat is a tiny sort of island on the edge of the pool +under the alders, where with his bent head, and red-rimmed philosophic +eyes he regards his own breast and dreams of happier days. When the +others walk into the country twenty-three of them keep together, and Burd +Alane (as I have named him from the old ballad) walks by himself. The +lack of harmony is so evident here, and the slight so intentional and +direct, that it almost moves me to tears. The others walk soberly, +always in couples, but even Burd Alane's rightful spouse is on the side +of the majority, and avoids her consort. + +{Out of favour with the entire family: p61.jpg} + +What is the nature of his offence? There can be no connubial jealousies, +I judge, as geese are strictly monogamous, and having chosen a partner of +their joys and sorrows they cleave to each other until death or some +other inexorable circumstance does them part. If they are ever mistaken +in their choice, and think they might have done better, the world is none +the wiser. Burd Alane looks in good condition, but Phoebe thinks he is +not quite himself, and that some day when he is in greater strength he +will turn on his foes and rend them, regaining thus his lost prestige, +for formerly he was king of the flock. + +* * * * * + +Phoebe has not a vestige of sentiment. She just asked me if I would have +a duckling or a gosling for dinner; that there were two quite ready--the +brown and yellow duckling, that is the last to leave the water at night, +and the white gosling that never knows his own 'ouse. Which would I +'ave, and would I 'ave it with sage and onion? + +Now, had I found a duckling on the table at dinner I should have eaten it +without thinking at all, or with the thought that it had come from +Barbury Green. But eat a duckling that I have stoned out of the pond, +pursued up the bank, chased behind the wire netting, caught, screaming, +in a corner, and carried struggling to his bed? Feed upon an idiot +gosling that I have found in nine different coops on nine successive +nights--in with the newly-hatched chicks, the half-grown pullets, the +setting hen, the "invaleed goose," the drake with the gapes, the old +ducks in the pen?--Eat a gosling that I have caught and put in with his +brothers and sisters (whom he never recognises) so frequently and +regularly that I am familiar with every joint in his body? + +In the first place, with my own small bump of locality and lack of +geography, I would never willingly consume a creature who might, by some +strange process of assimilation, make me worse in this respect; in the +second place, I should have to be ravenous indeed to sit down +deliberately and make a meal of an intimate friend, no matter if I had +not a high opinion of his intelligence. I should as soon think of eating +the Square Baby, stuffed with sage and onion and garnished with green +apple-sauce, as the yellow duckling or the idiot gosling. + +Mrs. Heaven has just called me into her sitting-room, ostensibly to ask +me to order breakfast, but really for the pleasure of conversation. Why +she should inquire whether I would relish some gammon of bacon with eggs, +when she knows that there has not been, is not now, and never will be, +anything but gammon of bacon with eggs, is more than I can explain. + +"Would you like to see my flowers, miss?" she asks, folding her plump +hands over her white apron. "They are looking beautiful this morning. I +am so fond of potted plants, of plants in pots. Look at these geraniums! +Now, I consider that pink one a perfect bloom; yes, a perfect bloom. This +is a fine red one, is it not, miss? Especially fine, don't you think? +The trouble with the red variety is that they're apt to get "bobby" and +have to be washed regularly; quite bobby they do get indeed, I assure +you. That white one has just gone out of blossom, and it was really +wonderful. You could 'ardly have told it from a paper flower, miss, not +from a white paper flower. My plants are my children nowadays, since +Albert Edward is my only care. I have been the mother of eleven +children, miss, all of them living, so far as I know; I know nothing to +the contrary. I 'ope you are not wearying of this solitary place, miss? +It will grow upon you, I am sure, as it did upon Mrs. Pollock, with all +her peculiar fancies, and as it 'as grown upon us.--We formerly had a +butcher's shop in Buffington, and it was naturally a great +responsibility. Mr. Heaven's nerves are not strong, and at last he +wanted a life of more quietude, more quietude was what he craved. The +life of a retail butcher is a most exciting and wearying one. Nobody +satisfied with their meat; as if it mattered in a world of change! +Everybody complaining of too much bone or too little fat; nobody wishing +tough chops or cutlets, but always seeking after fine joints, when it's +against reason and nature that all joints should be juicy and all cutlets +tender; always complaining if livers are not sent with every fowl, always +asking you to remember the trimmin's, always wanting their beef well +'ung, and then if you 'ang it a minute too long, it's left on your 'ands! +I often used to say to Mr. Heaven, yes many's the time I've said it, that +if people would think more of the great 'ereafter and less about their +own little stomachs, it would be a deal better for them, yes, a deal +better, and make it much more comfortable for the butchers!" + +{The life . . . is a most exciting and wearying one: p65.jpg} + +* * * * * + +Burd Alane has had a good quarter of an hour to-day. + +{His spouse took a brief promenade with him: p66.jpg} + +His spouse took a brief promenade with him. To be sure, it was during an +absence of the flock on the other side of the hedge so that the moral +effect of her spasm of wifely loyalty was quite lost upon them. I +strongly suspect that she would not have granted anything but a secret +interview. What a petty, weak, ignoble character! I really don't like +to think so badly of any fellow-creature as I am forced to think of that +politic, time-serving, pusillanimous goose. I believe she laid the egg +that produced the idiot gosling! + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Here follows the true story of Sir Muscovy Drake, the Lady Blanche, and +Miss Malardina Crippletoes. + +Phoebe's flock consisted at first mostly of Brown Mallards, but a friend +gave her a sitting of eggs warranted to produce a most beautiful variety +of white ducks. They were hatched in due time, but proved hard to raise, +till at length there was only one survivor, of such uncommon grace and +beauty that we called her the Lady Blanche. Presently a neighbour sold +Phoebe his favourite Muscovy drake, and these two splendid creatures by +"natural selection" disdained to notice the rest of the flock, but +forming a close friendship, wandered in the pleasant paths of duckdom +together, swimming and eating quite apart from the others. + +In the brown flock there was one unfortunate, misshapen from the egg, +quite lame, and with no smoothness of plumage; but on that very account, +apparently, or because she was too weak to resist them, the others +treated her cruelly, biting her and pushing her away from the food. + +One day it happened that the two ducks--Sir Muscovy and Lady Blanche--had +come up from the water before the others, and having taken their repast +were sitting together under the shade of a flowering currant-bush, when +they chanced to see poor Miss Crippletoes very badly used and crowded +away from the dish. Sir Muscovy rose to his feet; a few rapid words +seemed to pass between him and his mate, and then he fell upon the other +drake and the heartless minions who had persecuted the helpless one, +drove them far away out of sight, and, returning, went to the corner +where the victim was cowering, her face to the wall. He seemed to +whisper to her, or in some way to convey to her a sense of protection; +for after a few moments she tremblingly went with him to the dish, and +hurriedly ate her dinner while he stood by, repulsing the advances of the +few brown ducks who remained near and seemed inclined to attack her. + +When she had eaten enough Lady Blanche joined them, and they went down +the hill together to their favourite swimming-place. After that Miss +Crippletoes always followed a little behind her protectors, and thus +shielded and fed she grew stronger and well-feathered, though she was +always smaller than she should have been and had a lowly manner, keeping +a few steps in the rear of her superiors and sitting at some distance +from their noon resting-place. + +Phoebe noticed after a while that Lady Blanche was seldom to be seen, and +Sir Muscovy and Miss Crippletoes often came to their meals without her. +The would-be mother refused to inhabit the house Phoebe had given her, +and for a long time the place she had chosen for her sitting could not be +found. At length the Square Baby discovered her in a most ideal spot. A +large boulder had dropped years ago into the brook that fills our duck- +pond; dropped and split in halves with the two smooth walls leaning away +from each other. A grassy bank towered behind, and on either side of the +opening, tall bushes made a miniature forest where the romantic mother +could brood her treasures while her two guardians enjoyed the water close +by her retreat. + +All this happened before my coming to Thornycroft Farm, but it was I who +named the hero and heroines of the romance when Phoebe had told me all +the particulars. Yesterday morning I was sitting by my open window. It +was warm, sunny, and still, but in the country sounds travel far, and I +could hear fowl conversation in various parts of the poultry-yard as well +as in all the outlying bits of territory occupied by our feathered +friends. Hens have only three words and a scream in their language, but +ducks, having more thoughts to express, converse quite fluently, so +fluently, in fact, that it reminds me of dinner at the Hydropathic Hotel. +I fancy I have learned to distinguish seven separate sounds, each varied +by degrees of intensity, and with upward or downward inflections like the +Chinese tongue. + +In the distance, then, I heard the faint voice of a duck calling as if +breathless and excited. While I wondered what was happening, I saw Miss +Crippletoes struggling up the steep bank above the duck-pond. It was the +quickest way from the water to the house, but difficult for the little +lame webbed feet. When she reached the level grass sward she sank down a +moment, exhausted; but when she could speak again she cried out, a sharp +staccato call, and ran forward. + +Instantly she was answered from a distant knoll, where for some reason +Sir Muscovy loved to retire for meditation. The cries grew lower and +softer as the birds approached each other, and they met at the corner +just under my window. Instantly they put their two bills together and +the loud cries changed to confiding murmurs. Evidently some hurried +questions and answers passed between them, and then Sir Muscovy waddled +rapidly by the quickest path, Miss Crippletoes following him at a slower +pace, and both passed out of sight, using their wings to help their feet +down the steep declivity. The next morning, when I wakened early, my +first thought was to look out, and there on the sunny greensward where +they were accustomed to be fed, Sir Muscovy, Lady Blanche, and their +humble maid, Malardina Crippletoes, were scattering their own breakfast +before the bills of twelve beautiful golden balls of ducklings. The +little creatures could never have climbed the bank, but must have started +from their nest at dawn, coming round by the brook to the level at the +foot of the garden, and so by slow degrees up to the house. + +Judging from what I heard and knew of their habits, I am sure the +excitement of the previous morning was occasioned by the hatching of the +eggs, and that Lady Blanche had hastily sent her friend to call Sir +Muscovy, the family remaining together until they could bring the babies +with them and display their beauty to Phoebe and me. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +July 14th. + +We are not wholly without the pleasures of the town in Barbury Green. +Once or twice in a summer, late on a Saturday afternoon, a procession of +red and yellow vans drives into a field near the centre of the village. +By the time the vans are unpacked all the children in the community are +surrounding the gate of entrance. There is rifle-shooting, there is +fortune-telling, there are games of pitch and toss, and swings, and +French bagatelle; and, to crown all, a wonderful orchestrion that goes by +steam. The water is boiled for the public's tea, and at the same time +thrilling strains of melody are flung into the air. There is at present +only one tune in the orchestrion's repertory, but it is a very good tune; +though after hearing it three hundred and seven times in a single +afternoon, it pursues one, sleeping and waking, for the next week. Phoebe +and I took the Square Baby and went in to this diversified entertainment. +There was a small crowd of children at the entrance, but as none of them +seemed to be provided with pennies, and I felt in a fairy godmother mood, +I offered them the freedom of the place at my expense. + +I never purchased more radiant good-will for less money, but the combined +effect of the well-boiled tea and the boiling orchestrion produced many +village nightmares, so the mothers told me at chapel next morning. + +* * * * * + +I have many friends in Barbury Green, and often have a pleasant chat with +the draper, and the watchmaker, and the chemist. + +{The freedom of the place at my expense: p74.jpg} + +The last house on the principal street is rather an ugly one, with +especially nice window curtains. As I was taking my daily walk to the +post-office (an entirely unfruitful expedition thus far, as nobody has +taken the pains to write to me) I saw a nursemaid coming out of the gate, +wheeling a baby in a perambulator. She was going placidly away from the +Green when, far in the distance, she espied a man walking rapidly toward +us, a heavy Gladstone bag in one hand. She gazed fixedly for a moment, +her eyes brightening and her cheeks flushing with pleasure,--whoever it +was, it was an unexpected arrival;--then she retraced her steps and, +running up the garden-path, opened the front door and held an excited +colloquy with somebody; a slender somebody in a nice print gown and +neatly-dressed hair, who came to the gate and peeped beyond the hedge +several times, drawing back between peeps with smiles and heightened +colour. She did not run down the road, even when she had satisfied +herself of the identity of the traveller; perhaps that would not have +been good form in an English village, for there were houses on the +opposite side of the way. She waited until he opened the gate, the +nursemaid took the bag and looked discreetly into the hedge, then the +mistress slipped her hand through the traveller's arm and walked up the +path as if she had nothing else in the world to wish for. The nurse had +a part in the joy, for she lifted the baby out of the perambulator and +showed proudly how much he had grown. + +It was a dear little scene, and I, a passer-by, had shared in it and felt +better for it. I think their content was no less because part of it had +enriched my life, for happiness, like mercy, is twice blessed; it blesses +those who are most intimately associated in it, and it blesses all those +who see it, hear it, feel it, touch it, or breathe the same atmosphere. A +laughing, crowing baby in a house, one cheerful woman singing about her +work, a boy whistling at the plough, a romance just suspected, with its +miracle of two hearts melting into one--the wind's always in the west +when you have any of these wonder-workers in your neighbourhood. + +I have talks too, sometimes, with the old parson, who lives in a quaint +house with "_Parva Domus Magna Quies_" cut into the stone over the +doorway. He is not a preaching parson, but a retired one, almost the +nicest kind, I often think. + +He has been married thirty years, he tells me; thirty years, spent in the +one little house with the bricks painted red and grey alternately, and +the scarlet holly-hocks growing under the windows. I am sure they have +been sweet, true, kind years, and that his heart must be a quiet, +peaceful place just like his house and garden. + +"I was only eleven years old when I fell in love with my wife," he told +me as we sat on the seat under the lime-tree; he puffing cosily at his +pipe, I plaiting grasses for a hatband. + +{Puffing cosily at his pipe: p77.jpg} + +"It was just before Sunday-school. Her mother had dressed her all in +white muslin like a fairy, but she had stepped on the edge of a puddle, +and some of the muddy water had bespattered her frock. A circle of +children had surrounded her, and some of the motherly little girls were +on their knees rubbing at the spots anxiously, while one of them wiped +away the tears that were running down her pretty cheeks. I looked! It +was fatal! I did not look again, but I was smitten to the very heart! I +did not speak to her for six years, but when I did, it was all right with +both of us, thank God! and I've been in love with her ever since, when +she behaves herself!" + +That is the way they speak of love in Barbury Green, and oh! how much +sweeter and more wholesome it is than the language of the town! Who +would not be a Goose Girl, "to win the secret of the weed's plain heart"? +It seems to me that in society we are always gazing at magic-lantern +shows, but here we rest our tired eyes with looking at the stars. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +{A Hen Conference: p79.jpg} + +July 16th. + +Phoebe and I have been to a Hen Conference at Buffington. It was for the +purpose of raising the standard of the British Hen, and our local +Countess, who is much interested in poultry, was in the chair. + +It was a very learned body, but Phoebe had coached me so well that at the +noon recess I could talk confidently with the members, discussing the +various advantages of True and Crossed Minorcas, Feverels, Andalusians, +Cochin Chinas, Shanghais, and the White Leghorn. (Phoebe, when she +pronounces this word, leaves out the "h" and bears down heavily on the +last syllable, so that it rhymes with begone!) + +As I was sitting under the trees waiting for Phoebe to finish some +shopping in the village, a travelling poultry-dealer came along and +offered to sell me a silver Wyandotte pullet and cockerel. This was a +new breed to me and I asked the price, which proved to be more than I +should pay for a hat in Bond Street. I hesitated, thinking meantime what +a delightful parting gift they would be for Phoebe; I mean if we ever +should part, which seems more and more unlikely, as I shall never leave +Thornycroft until somebody comes properly to fetch me; indeed, unless the +"fetching" is done somewhat speedily I may decline to go under any +circumstances. My indecision as to the purchase was finally banished +when the poultryman asserted that the fowls had clear open centres all +over, black lacing entirely round the white centres, were free from white +edging, and each had a cherry-red eye. This catalogue of charms inflamed +my imagination, though it gave me no mental picture of a silver Wyandotte +fowl, and I paid the money while the dealer crammed the chicks, squawking +into my five-o'clock tea-basket. + +{Arguing questions of diet: p81.jpg} + +The afternoon session of the conference was most exciting, for we reached +the subject of imported eggs, an industry that is assuming terrifying +proportions. The London hotel egg comes from Denmark, it seems,--I +should think by sailing vessel, not steamer, but I may be wrong. After +we had settled that the British Hen should be protected and encouraged, +and agreed solemnly to abstain from Danish eggs in any form, and made a +resolution stating that our loyalty to Queen Alexandra would remain +undiminished, we argued the subject of hen diet. There was a great +difference of opinion here and the discussion was heated; the honorary +treasurer standing for pulped mangold and flint grit, the chair insisting +on barley meal and randans, while one eloquent young woman declared, to +loud cries of "'Ear, 'ear!" that rice pudding and bone chips produce more +eggs to the square hen than any other sort of food. Impassioned orators +arose here and there in the audience demanding recognition for beef +scraps, charcoal, round corn or buckwheat. Foods were regarded from +various standpoints: as general invigorators, growth assisters, and egg +producers. A very handsome young farmer carried off final honours, and +proved to the satisfaction of all the feminine poultry-raisers that green +young hog bones fresh cut in the Banner Bone Breaker (of which he was the +agent) possessed a nutritive value not to be expressed in human language. + +{The afternoon session was most exciting: p82.jpg} + +Phoebe was distinctly nervous when I rose to say a few words on poultry +breeding, announcing as my topic "Mothers, Stepmothers, Foster-Mothers, +and Incubators." Protected by the consciousness that no one in the +assemblage could possibly know me, I made a distinct success in my maiden +speech; indeed, I somewhat overshot the mark, for the Countess in the +chair sent me a note asking me to dine with her that evening. I +suppressed the note and took Phoebe away before the proceedings were +finished, vanishing from the scene of my triumphs like a veiled prophet. + +Just as we were passing out the door we paused to hear the report of a +special committee whose chairman read the following resolutions:-- + +_Whereas_,--It has pleased the Almighty to remove from our midst our +greatest Rose Comb Buff Orpington fancier and esteemed friend, Albert +Edward Sheridain; therefore be it + +_Resolved_,--That the next edition of our catalogue contain an +illustrated memorial page in his honour and + +_Resolved_,--That the Rose Comb Buff Orpington Club extend to the +bereaved family their heartfelt sympathy. + +{Not asked to the Conference: p84.jpg} + +The handsome young farmer followed us out to our trap, invited us to +attend the next meeting of the R. C. B. O. Club, of which he was the +secretary, and asked if I were intending to "show." I introduced Phoebe +as the senior partner, and she concealed the fact that we possessed but +one Buff Orpington, and he was a sad "invaleed" not suitable for +exhibition. The farmer's expression as he looked at me was almost lover- +like, and when he pressed a bit of paper into my hand I was sure it must +be an offer of marriage. It was in fact only a circular describing the +Banner Bone Breaker. It closed with an appeal to Buff Orpington breeders +to raise and ever raise the standard, bidding them remember, in the midst +of a low-minded and sordid civilisation, that the rose comb should be +small and neat, firmly set on, with good working, a nice spike at the +back lying well down to head, and never, under any circumstances, never +sticking up. This adjuration somewhat alarmed us as Phoebe and I had +been giving our Buff Orpington cockerel the most drastic remedies for his +languid and prostrate comb. + +{Coming home: p85.jpg} + +Coming home we alighted from the trap to gather hogweed for the rabbits. +I sat by the wayside lazily and let Phoebe gather the appetising weed, +which grows along the thorniest hedges in close proximity to nettles and +thistles. + +Workmen were trudging along with their luncheon-baskets of woven +bulrushes slung over their shoulders. Fields of ripening grain lay on +either hand, the sun shining on their every shade of green and yellow, +bronze and orange, while the breeze stirred the bearded barley into a +rippling golden sea. + +Phoebe asked me if the people I had left behind at the Hydropathic were +my relatives. + +"Some of them are of remote consanguinity," I responded evasively, and +the next question was hushed upon her awe-stricken tongue, as I intended. + +"They are obeying my wish to be let alone, there's no doubt of that," I +was thinking. "For my part, I like a little more spirit, and a little +less 'letter'!" + +{Workmen were trudging home: p87.jpg} + +As the word "letter" flitted through my thoughts, I pulled one from my +pocket and glanced through it carelessly. It arrived, somewhat tardily, +only last night, or I should not have had it with me. I wore the same +dress to the post-office yesterday that I wore to the Hen Conference to- +day, and so it chanced to be still in the pocket. If it had been +anything I valued, of course I should have lost or destroyed it by +mistake; it is only silly, worthless little things like this that keep +turning up and turning up after one has forgotten their existence. + + "You are a mystery!" [it ran.] "I can apprehend, but not comprehend + you. I know you in part. I understand various bits of your nature; + but my knowledge is always fragmentary and disconnected, and when I + attempt to make a whole of the mosaics I merely get a kaleidoscopic + effect. Do you know those geographical dissected puzzles that they + give to children? You remind me of one of them. + + "I have spent many charming (and dangerous) hours trying to 'put you + together'; but I find, when I examine my picture closely, that after + all I've made a purple mountain grow out of a green tree; that my + river is running up a steep hillside; and that the pretty milkmaid, + who should be wandering in the forest, is standing on her head with + her pail in the air + + "Do you understand yourself clearly? Or is it just possible that when + you dive to the depths of your own consciousness, you sometimes find + the pretty milkmaid standing on her head? I wonder!" . . . + +Ah, well, it is no wonder that he wonders! So do I, for that matter! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +{Along the highway: p89.jpg} + +July 17th. + +Thornycroft Farm seems to be the musical centre of the universe. + +When I wake very early in the morning I lie in a drowsy sort of dream, +trying to disentangle, one from the other, the various bird notes, +trills, coos, croons, chirps, chirrups, and warbles. Suddenly there +falls on the air a delicious, liquid, finished song; so pure, so mellow, +so joyous, that I go to the window and look out at the morning world, +half awakened, like myself. + +There is I know not what charm in a window that does not push up, but +opens its lattices out into the greenness. And mine is like a little +jewelled door, for the sun is shining from behind the chimneys and +lighting the tiny diamond panes with amber flashes. + +A faint delicate haze lies over the meadow, and rising out of it, and +soaring toward the blue is the lark, flinging out that matchless matin +song, so rich, so thrilling, so lavish! As the blithe melody fades away, +I hear the plaintive ballad-fragments of the robin on a curtsying branch +near my window; and there is always the liquid pipe of the thrush, who +must quaff a fairy goblet of dew between his songs, I should think, so +fresh and eternally young is his note. + +There is another beautiful song that I follow whenever I hear it, +straining my eyes to the treetops, yet never finding a bird that I can +identify as the singer. Can it be the-- + + "Ousel-cock so black of hue, + With orange-tawny bill"? + +He is called the poet-laureate of the primrose time, but I don't know +whether he sings in midsummer, and I have not seen him hereabouts. I +must write and ask my dear Man of the North. The Man of the North, I +sometimes think, had a Fairy Grandmother who was a robin; and perhaps she +made a nest of fresh moss and put him in the green wood when he was a wee +bairnie, so that he waxed wise in bird-lore without knowing it. At all +events, describe to him the cock of a head, the glance of an eye, the tip- +up of a tail, or the sheen of a feather, and he will name you the bird. +Near-sighted he is, too, the Man of the North, but that is only for +people. + +The Square Baby and I have a new game. + +I bought a doll's table and china tea-set in Buffington. We put it under +an apple-tree in the side garden, where the scarlet lightning grows so +tall and the Madonna lilies stand so white against the flaming +background. We built a little fence around it, and every afternoon at +tea-time we sprinkle seeds and crumbs in the dishes, water in the tiny +cups, drop a cherry in each of the fruit-plates, and have a _the +chantant_ for the birdies. We sometimes invite an "invaleed" duckling, +or one of the baby rabbits, or the peacock, in which case the cards +read:-- + + _Thornycroft Farm_. + The pleasure of your company is requested + at a + _The Chantant_ + Under the Apple Tree. + Music at five. + +It is a charming game, as I say, but I'd far rather play it with the Man +of the North; he is so much younger than the Square Baby, and so much +more responsive, too. + +{The scent of the hay: p92.jpg} + +Thornycroft Farm is a sweet place, too, of odours as well as sounds. The +scent of the hay is for ever in the nostrils, the hedges are thick with +wild honeysuckle, so deliciously fragrant, the last of the June roses are +lingering to do their share, and blackberry blossoms and ripening fruit +as well. + +I have never known a place in which it is so easy to be good. I have not +said a word, nor scarcely harboured a thought, that was not lovely and +virtuous since I entered these gates, and yet there are those who think +me fantastic, difficult, hard to please, unreasonable! + +{The last of June: p93.jpg} + +I believe the saints must have lived in the country mostly (I am certain +they never tried Hydropathic hotels), and why anybody with a black heart +and natural love of wickedness should not simply buy a poultry farm and +become an angel, I cannot understand. + +{A place in which it is so easy to be good: p94.jpg} + +Living with animals is really a very improving and wholesome kind of +life, to the person who will allow himself to be influenced by their +sensible and high-minded ideals. When you come to think about it, man is +really the only animal that ever makes a fool of himself; the others are +highly civilised, and never make mistakes. I am going to mention this +when I write to somebody, sometime; I mean if I ever do. To be sure, our +human life is much more complicated than theirs, and I believe when the +other animals notice our errors of judgment they make allowances. The +bee is as busy as a bee, and the beaver works like a beaver, but there +their responsibility ends. The bee doesn't have to go about seeing that +other bees are not crowded into unsanitary tenements or victimised by the +sweating system. When the beaver's day of toil is over he doesn't have +to discuss the sphere, the rights, or the voting privileges of +beaveresses; all he has to do is to work like a beaver, and that is +comparatively simple. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +{Not particularly attracted by the poultry: p96.jpg} + +I have been studying _The Young Poultry Keeper's Friend_ of late. If +there is anything I dislike and deplore, it is the possession of +knowledge which I cannot put to practical use. Having discovered an +interesting disease called Scaly Leg in the July number, I took the +magazine out into the poultry-yard and identified the malady on three +hens and a cock. Phoebe joined me in the diagnosis and we treated the +victims with a carbolic lotion and scrubbed them with vaseline. + +{Leaned languidly against the netting: p97.jpg} + +As Phoebe and I grow wise in medical lore the case of Cannibal Ann +assumes a different aspect. As the bibulous man quaffs more and more +flagons of beer and wine when his daily food is ham, salt fish, and +cabbage, so does the hen avenge her wrongs of diet and woes of +environment. Cannibal Ann, herself, has, so far as we know, been raised +in a Christian manner and enjoyed all the advantages of modern methods; +but her maternal parent may have lived in some heathen poultry-yard which +was asphalted or bricked or flagged, so that she was debarred from +scratching in Mother Earth and was forced to eat her own shells in self- +defence. + +* * * * * + +The Square Baby is not particularly attracted by the poultry as a whole, +save when it is boiled with bacon or roasted with bread-sauce; but he is +much interested in the "invaleeds." Whenever Phoebe and I start for the +hospital with the tobacco-pills, the tin of paraffin, and the bottle of +oil, he is very much in evidence. Perhaps he has a natural leaning +toward the medical profession; at any rate, when pain and anguish wring +the brow, he is in close attendance upon the ministering angels. + +{Staggered and reeled: p98.jpg} + +Now it is necessary for the physician to have practice as well as theory, +so the Square Baby, being left to himself this afternoon, proceeded to +perfect himself in some of the healing arts used by country +practitioners. + +{Caught her son red-handed: p99.jpg} + +When discovered, he was seated in front of the wire-covered "run" +attached to a coop occupied by the youngest goslings. A couple of +bottles and a box stood by his side, and I should think he had +administered a cup of sweet oil, a pint of paraffin, and a quarter of a +pound of tobacco during his clinic. He had used the remedies +impartially, sometimes giving the paraffin internally and rubbing the +patient's head with tobacco or oil, sometimes the reverse. + +Several goslings leaned languidly against the netting, or supported +themselves by the edge of the water-dish, while others staggered and +reeled about with eyes half closed. + +{He was treated summarily and smartly: p100.jpg} + +It was Mrs. Heaven who caught her son red-handed, so to speak. She was +dressed in her best, and just driving off to Woodmucket to spend a day or +two with her married daughter, and soothe her nerves with the uproar +incident to a town of six hundred inhabitants. She delayed her journey a +half-hour--long enough, in fact, to change her black silk waist for a +loose sacque which would give her arms full and comfortable play. The +joy and astonishment that greeted the Square Baby on his advent, five +years ago, was forgotten for the first time in his brief life, and he was +treated precisely as any ordinary wrongdoer would have been treated under +the same circumstances, summarily and smartly; the "wepping," as Phoebe +would say, being Mrs. Heaven's hand. + +All but one of the goslings lived, like thousands of others who recover +in spite of the doctors, but the Square Baby's interest in the healing +art is now perceptibly lessened. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +July 18th. + +The day was Friday; Phoebe's day to go to Buffington with eggs and +chickens and rabbits; her day to solicit orders for ducklings and +goslings. The village cart was ready in the stable; Mr. and Mrs. Heaven +were in Woodmucket; I was eating my breakfast (which I remember was an +egg and a rasher) when Phoebe came in, a figure of woe. + +The Square Baby was ill, very ill, and would not permit her to leave him +and go to market. Would I look at him? For he must have dowsed 'imself +as well as the goslings yesterday; anyways he was strong of paraffin and +tobacco, though he 'ad 'ad a good barth. + +I prescribed for Albert Edward, who was as uncomfortable and feverish as +any little sinner in the county of Sussex, and I then promptly proposed +going to Buffington in Phoebe's place. + +She did not think it at all proper, and said that, notwithstanding my +cotton gown and sailor hat, I looked quite, quite the lydy, and it would +never do. + +"I cannot get any new orders," said I, "but I can certainly leave the +rabbits and eggs at the customary places. I know Argent's Dining +Parlours, and Songhurst's Tea Rooms, and the Six Bells Inn, as well as +you do." + +{The Six Bells found the last poultry somewhat tough: p103.jpg} + +So, donning a pair of Phoebe's large white cotton gloves with open-work +wrists (than which I always fancy there is no one article that so +disguises the perfect lydy), I set out upon my travels, upborne by a +lively sense of amusement that was at least equal to my feeling that I +was doing Phoebe Heaven a good turn. + +Prices in dressed poultry were fluctuating, but I had a copy of _The +Trade Review_, issued that very day, and was able to get some idea of +values and the state of the market as I jogged along. The general +movement, I learned, was moderate and of a "selective" character. Choice +large capons and ducks were in steady demand, but I blushed for my +profession when I read that roasting chickens were running coarse, +staggy, and of irregular value. Old hens were held firmly at sixpence, +and it is my experience that they always have to be, at whatever price. +Geese were plenty, dull, and weak. Old cocks,--why don't they say +roosters?--declined to threepence ha'penny on Thursday in sympathy with +fowls,--and who shall say that chivalry is dead? Turkeys were a trifle +steadier, and there was a speculative movement in limed eggs. All this +was illuminating, and I only wished I were quite certain whether the +sympathetic old roosters were threepence ha'penny apiece, or a pound. + +{The gadabout hen: p105.jpg} + +Everything happened as it should, on this first business journey of my +life, which is equivalent to saying that nothing happened at all. +Songhurst's Tea Rooms took five dozen eggs and told me to bring six dozen +the next week. Argent's Dining Parlours purchased three pairs of +chickens and four rabbits. The Six Bells found the last poultry somewhat +tough and tasteless; whereupon I said that our orders were more than we +could possibly fill, still I hoped we could go on "selling them," as we +never liked to part with old customers, no matter how many new ones there +were. Privately, I understood the complaint only too well, for I knew +the fowls in question very intimately. Two of them were the runaway +rooster and the gadabout hen that never wanted to go to bed with the +others. The third was Cannibal Ann. I should have expected them to be +tough, but I cannot believe they were lacking in flavour. + +The only troublesome feature of the trip was that Mrs. Sowerbutt's +lodgers had suddenly left for London and she was unable to take the four +rabbits as she had hoped; but as an offset to that piece of ill-fortune +the Coke and Coal Yard and the Bicycle Repairing Rooms came out into the +street, and, stepping up to the trap, requested regular weekly deliveries +of eggs and chickens, and hoped that I would be able to bring them +myself. And so, in a happy frame of mind, I turned out of the Buffington +main street, and was jogging along homeward, when a very startling thing +happened; namely, a whole verse of the Bailiff's Daughter of Islington:-- + + "And as she went along the high road, + The weather being hot and dry, + She sat her down upon a green bank, + And her true love came riding by." + +That true lovers are given to riding by, in ballads, I know very well, +but I hardly supposed they did so in real life, especially when every +precaution had been taken to avert such a catastrophe. I had told the +Barbury Green postmistress, on the morning of my arrival, not to give the +Thornycroft address to anybody whatsoever, but finding, as the days +passed, that no one was bold enough or sensible enough to ask for it, I +haughtily withdrew my prohibition. About this time I began sending +envelopes, carefully addressed in a feigned hand, to a certain person at +the Oxenbridge Hydro. These envelopes contained no word of writing, but +held, on one day, only a bit of down from a hen's breast, on another, a +goose-quill, on another, a glossy tail-feather, on another, a grain of +corn, and so on. These trifles were regarded by me not as degrading or +unmaidenly hints and suggestions, but simply as tests of intelligence. +Could a man receive tokens of this sort and fail to put two and two +together? I feel that I might possibly support life with a domineering +and autocratic husband,--and there is every prospect that I shall be +called upon to do so,--but not with a stupid one. Suppose one were +linked for ever to a man capable of asking,--"Did _you_ send those +feathers? . . . How was I to guess? . . . How was a fellow to know they +came from you? . . . What on earth could I suppose they meant? . . . What +clue did they offer me as to your whereabouts? . . . Am I a Sherlock +Holmes?"--No, better eternal celibacy than marriage with such a being! + +{She was unable to take the four rabbits: p107.jpg} + +These were the thoughts that had been coursing through my goose-girl mind +while I had been selling dressed poultry, but in some way they had not +prepared me for the appearance of the aforesaid true love. + +To see the very person whom one has left civilisation to avoid is always +more or less surprising, and to make the meeting less likely, Buffington +is even farther from Oxenbridge than Barbury Green. The creature was +well mounted (ominous, when he came to override my caprice!) and he +looked bigger, and, yes, handsomer, though that doesn't signify, and +still more determined than when I saw him last; although goodness knows +that timidity and feebleness of purpose were not in striking evidence on +that memorable occasion. I had drawn up under the shade of a tree +ostensibly to eat some cherries, thinking that if I turned my face away I +might pass unrecognised. It was a stupid plan, for if I had whipped up +the mare and driven on, he of course, would have had to follow, and he +has too much dignity and self-respect to shriek recriminations into a +woman's ear from a distance. + +{The creature was well mounted: p109.jpg} + +He approached with deliberation, reined in his horse, and lifted his hat +ceremoniously. He has an extremely shapely head, but I did not show that +the sight of it melted in the least the ice of my resolve; whereupon we +talked, not very freely at first,--men are so stiff when they consider +themselves injured. However, silence is even more embarrassing than +conversation, so at length I begin:-- + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"It is a lovely day." + +_True Love_.--"Yes, but the drought is getting rather oppressive, don't +you think?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"The crops certainly need rain, and the feed is +becoming scarce." + +_True Love_.--"Are you a farmer's wife?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Oh no! that is a promotion to look forward to; I +am now only a Goose Girl." + +_True Love_.--"Indeed! If I wished to be severe I might remark: that I +am sure you have found at last your true vocation!" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"It was certainly through no desire to please +_you_ that I chose it." + +_True Love_.--"I am quite sure of that! Are you staying in this part?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Oh no! I live many miles distant, over an +extremely rough road. And you?" + +_True Love_.--"I am still at the Hydropathic; or at least my luggage is +there." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"It must be very pleasant to attract you so long." + +_True Love_.--"Not so pleasant as it was." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"No? A new proprietor, I suppose." + +_True Love_.--"No; same proprietor; but the house is empty." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (yawning purposely).--"That is strange; the hotels +are usually so full at this season. Why did so many leave?" + +_True Love_.--"As a matter of fact, only one left. 'Full' and 'empty' +are purely relative terms. I call a hotel full when it has you in it, +empty when it hasn't." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (dying to laugh, but concealing her feelings).--"I +trust my bulk does not make the same impression on the general public! +Well, I won't detain you longer; good afternoon; I must go home to my +evening work." + +_True Love_.--"I will accompany you." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"If you are a gentleman you will remain where you +are." + +_True Love_.--"In the road? Perhaps; but if I am a man I shall follow +you; they always do, I notice. What are those foolish bundles in the +back of that silly cart?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Feed for the pony, please, sir; fish for dinner; +randans and barley meal for the poultry; and four unsold rabbits. +Wouldn't you like them? Only one and sixpence apiece. Shot at three +o'clock this morning." + +_True Love_.--"Thanks; I don't like mine shot so early." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Oh, well! doubtless I shall be able to dispose of +them on my way home, though times is 'ard!" + +_True Love_.--"Do you mean that you will "peddle" them along the road?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"You understand me better than usual,--in fact to +perfection." + +He dismounts and strides to the back of the cart, lifts the covers, +seizes the rabbits, flings some silver contemptuously into the basket, +and looks about him for a place to bury his bargain. A small boy +approaching in the far distance will probably bag the game. + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (modestly).--"Thanks for your trade, sir, rather +ungraciously bestowed, and we 'opes for a continuance of your past +fyvors." + +_True Love_ (leaning on the wheel of the trap).--"Let us stop this +nonsense. What did you hope to gain by running away?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Distance and absence." + +_True Love_.--"You knew you couldn't prevent my offering myself to you +sometime or other." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Perhaps not; but I could at least defer it, +couldn't I?" + +_True Love_.--"Why postpone the inevitable?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Doubtless I shrank from giving you the pain of a +refusal." + +_True Love_.--"Perhaps; but do you know what I suspect?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"I'm not a suspicious person, thank goodness!" + +_True Love_.--"That, on the contrary, you are wilfully withholding from +me the joy of acceptance." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"If I intended to accept you, why did I run away?" + +_True Love_.--"To make yourself more desirable and precious, I suppose." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (with the most confident coquetry).--"Did I +succeed?" + +_True Love_.--"No; you failed utterly." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (secretly piqued).--"Then I am glad I tried it." + +_True Love_.--"You couldn't succeed because you were superlatively +desirable and precious already; but you should never have experimented. +Don't you know that Love is a high explosive?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Is it? Then it ought always to be labelled +'dangerous,' oughtn't it? But who thought of suggesting matches? I'm +sure I didn't!" + +_True Love_.--"No such luck; I wish you would." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"According to your theory, if you apply a match to +Love it is likely to 'go off.'" + +_True Love_.--"I wish you would try it on mine and await the result. Come +now, you'll have to marry somebody, sometime." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"I confess I don't see the necessity." + +_True Love_ (morosely).--"You're the sort of woman men won't leave in +undisturbed spinsterhood; they'll keep on badgering you." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Oh, I don't mind the badgering of a number of +men; it's rather nice. It's the one badger I find obnoxious." + +_True Love_ (impatiently).--"That's just the perversity of things. I +could put a stop to the protestations of the many; I should like nothing +better--but the pertinacity of the one! Ah, well! I can't drop that +without putting an end to my existence." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (politely).--"I shouldn't think of suggesting +anything so extreme." + +_True Love_ (quoting).--"'Mrs. Hauksbee proceeded to take the conceit out +of Pluffles as you remove the ribs of an umbrella before re-covering.' +However, you couldn't ask me anything seriously that I wouldn't do, dear +Mistress Perversity." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (yielding a point).--"I'll put that boldly to the +proof. Say you don't love me!" + +_True Love_ (seizing his advantage).--"I don't! It's imbecile and +besotted devotion! Tell me, when may I come to take you away?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_ (sighing).--"It's like asking me to leave Heaven." + +{Phoebe and Gladwish: p115.jpg} + +_True Love_.--"I know it; she told me where to find you,--Thornycroft is +the seventh poultry-farm I've visited,--but you could never leave Heaven, +you can't be happy without poultry, why that is a wish easily gratified. +I'll get you a farm to-morrow; no, it's Saturday, and the real estate +offices close at noon, but on Monday, without fail. Your ducks and +geese, always carrying it along with you. All you would have to do is to +admit me; Heaven is full of twos. If you shall swim on a crystal +lake--Phoebe told me what a genius you have for getting them out of the +muddy pond; she was sitting beside it when I called, her hand in that of +a straw-coloured person named Gladwish, and the ground in her vicinity +completely strewn with votive offerings. You shall splash your silver +sea with an ivory wand; your hens shall have suburban cottages, each with +its garden; their perches shall be of satin-wood and their water dishes +of mother-of-pearl. You shall be the Goose Girl and I will be the Swan +Herd--simply to be near you--for I hate live poultry. Dost like the +picture? It's a little like Claude Melnotte's, I confess. The fact is I +am not quite sane; talking with you after a fortnight of the tabbies at +the Hydro is like quaffing inebriating vodka after Miffin's Food! May I +come to-morrow?" + +_Bailiffs Daughter_ (hedging).--"I shall be rather busy; the Crossed +Minorca hen comes off to-morrow." + +_True Love_.--"Oh, never mind! I'll take her off to-night when I escort +you to the farm; then she'll get a day's advantage." + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"And rob fourteen prospective chicks of a mother; +nay, lose the chicks themselves? Never!" + +_True Love_.--"So long as you are a Goose Girl, does it make any +difference whose you are? Is it any more agreeable to be Mrs. Heaven's +Goose Girl than mine?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"Ah! but in one case the term of service is +limited; in the other, permanent." + +_True Love_.--"But in the one case you are the slave of the employer, in +the other the employer of the slave. Why did you run away?" + +_Bailiff's Daughter_.--"A man's mind is too dull an instrument to measure +a woman's reason; even my own fails sometimes to deal with all its +delicate shades; but I think I must have run away chiefly to taste the +pleasure of being pursued and brought back. If it is necessary to your +happiness that you should explore all the Bluebeard chambers of my being, +I will confess further that it has taken you nearly three weeks to +accomplish what I supposed you would do in three days!" + +_True Love_ (after a well-spent interval).--"To-morrow, then; shall we +say before breakfast? All, do! Why not? Well, then, immediately after +breakfast, and I breakfast at seven nowadays, and sometimes earlier. Do +take off those ugly cotton gloves, dear; they are five sizes too large +for you, and so rough and baggy to the touch!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIARY OF A GOOSE GIRL*** + + +******* This file should be named 1867.txt or 1867.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/8/6/1867 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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