第 5 节
作者:辛苦      更新:2021-02-20 16:24      字数:9322
  〃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
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  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。
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  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 dull life。
  A Lancashire poultry…man 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
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  talking comfortably about laying and cackling and kindred matters when
  he took his pipe from his mouth and told us the following talenot 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
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