the diary of a goose girl-第4章
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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。
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。
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。
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。
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？
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。
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 frightthat 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。
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
