the diary of a goose girl-第3章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


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



July　9th。

By　the　time　the　ducks　and　geese　are　incarcerated　for　the　night；　the
reasonable；　sensible；　practical…minded　hensespecially　those　whose
mentality　is　increased　and　whose　virtue　is　heightened　by　the
responsibilities　of　motherhoodhave　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　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。

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　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…DAHcut！　。
。　。　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…DAHcut　。　。　。　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　du