the diary of a goose girl-第6章
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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。
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 familiesit 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
positionit would be just like her！
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
theyafter 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。
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。
Mrs。 Heaven has no reverence for the principles of Comenius；
Pestalozzi； or Herbert Spencer
