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Love Among the Chickens

Chapter 4 THE ARRIVAL

Word Count: 2162    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

can be found in the island, and the train, as if in appreciation of this fact, does no

, and later, when he thinks of it, a carrier looks in and conveys them into the valley and up the hill on the oppos

king through woods to the sea. The place was visible from the station, from w

field, Ukridge explaining that this was a short cut. We climbed through a hedge, crossed a stream and an

nce-nez to their original position from which th

"We've come in by the back w

ar. I should

ere," I

e in charge at present. I wrote to them telling them that we were coming to-day. They will be re

e house, but there was no answering footsteps. He rang again. There is no mistaking the no

hat?"

d at her husband w

get into an empty house where there looked as if there might be something to drink, and we'd just got the door open when the owner turned up from behind a tree with a shot-gun. It was a little difficult to explain. As a

oment history partially repeated itself. From the other side o

oy, to keep me out of my own house? It's a little hard. Here am I, slaving day and night to support Beale, and when I try to get into my own house his infern

ough it. Instantly the door shook as some heavy object hur

giving up the idea of conciliation, "w

imbed in. The dog, hearing the noise, raced back along the passage and flung himsel

e fire getting on, Millie? I'll chop Beale into little bits. What's that you've got there, Garny old horse? Tea? Good. Where's the bread? There goes another plate. Where's Mrs. Beale, too? By Jove, that woman wants killing as much as her blackguard of a husband. Whoever heard of a cook deliberately leaving her post on the day when her master and mistress were expected back? Th

continue his operatio

gleamed behin

e jug, laddie," he s

lery, whence came a sound of running water. He returned carrying the jug with bot

the door, and, when I give the word, fling wide the gate

f the mongrel class framed in the open doorway, all eyes and teeth; then the passage was occupied by a spreading

Nothing like resource, Garny my boy. Some men wo

og for a ha'porth

at the kettle was boiling. Over a cup of

ken farm, and no fowls! I can't run a chicken farm without fowls. If they don't come to-morrow, I shall get after those people with a hatchet. There must be no slackness. They

e fowls arrive before

n they mu

fowls cooped up inde

about there till we're ready for them. There's always a way of doing things if

some of the eggs, dear," said Mrs. Ukridge.

will send us fifty fowls of sorts. That means-call it forty-five eggs a da

ad turned the handle and was about to pull the door open, while Ukridge, looking like some modern and dila

id the voice, "or

th a double-barrelled gun in his hands, stood a short, square, red-headed man. The muzzle of his g

a roar like that

you doing with that gun? Why were you out? What have you been d

f tennis shoes which he wore were by this ti

ou?" said the red-headed man calm

door, followed by a renewal of the scratching, d

Bob,"

d what you're doing with that gun. After you've finished with the dog, I should like a

ry limp rabbits on the floor, proceeded to climb in through the window. This operation

said Ukridge coldly. "I've one o

y. He seemed to be a man

yself sitting in a deck-chair on the lawn, smoking and looking through the trees at the harbour below. It was a spot, I felt, in which it would be an easy and a pleas

Ukridge, as the servitor appeared

tful for a moment, then sai

h has that got to do with it? I want to know w

to Axminster, M

ies to go gadding about to Axminster. I don't pay her enormous

, s

ha

, s

calm, the strong man repressing h

s,

atter to the bottom

, s

I should arrive to-da

, s

was posted. I remember placing it in my pocket for that purpose. It is

produced from his breast-pocket. A soft smile

"you-er-there seems t

s,

o much to blam

, s

was a

go and slay that infernal dog. I'll teach him to

a cold but pleasant little dinner, at which the spared mongrel

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Love Among the Chickens
Love Among the Chickens
“From the book:It sounds so weak-minded. But in the case of Love Among the Chickens it is unavoidable. It was not so much that you sympathised and encouraged - where you really came out strong was that you gave me the stuff. I like people who sympathise with me. I am grateful to those who encourage me. But the man to whom I raise the Wodehouse hat - owing to the increased cost of living, the same old brown one I had last year - it is being complained of on all sides, but the public must bear it like men till the straw hat season comes round - I say, the man to whom I raise this venerable relic is the man who gives me the material. Sixteen years ago, my William, when we were young and spritely lads; when you were a tricky centre-forward and I a fast bowler; when your head was covered with hair and my list of "Hobbies" in Who's Who included Boxing; I received from you one morning about thirty closely-written foolscap pages, giving me the details of your friend ---'s adventures on his Devonshire chicken farm. Round these I wove as funny a plot as I could, but the book stands or falls by the stuff you gave me about "Ukridge" - the things that actually happened.”
1 Chapter 1 A LETTER WITH A POSTSCRIPT2 Chapter 2 MR. AND MRS. S. F. UKRIDGE3 Chapter 3 WATERLOO STATION, SOME FELLOW-TRAVELLERS,4 Chapter 4 THE ARRIVAL5 Chapter 5 BUCKLING TO6 Chapter 6 MR. GARNET'S NARRATIVE-HAS TO DO WITH A REUNION7 Chapter 7 THE ENTENTE CORDIALE IS SEALED8 Chapter 8 A LITTLE DINNER AT UKRIDGE'S9 Chapter 9 DIES IRAE10 Chapter 10 I ENLIST THE SERVICES OF A MINION11 Chapter 11 THE BRAVE PRESERVER12 Chapter 12 SOME EMOTIONS AND YELLOW LUPIN13 Chapter 13 TEA AND TENNIS14 Chapter 14 A COUNCIL OF WAR15 Chapter 15 THE ARRIVAL OF NEMESIS16 Chapter 16 A CHANCE MEETING17 Chapter 17 OF A SENTIMENTAL NATURE18 Chapter 18 UKRIDGE GIVES ME ADVICE19 Chapter 19 ASKING PAPA20 Chapter 20 SCIENTIFIC GOLF21 Chapter 21 THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM22 Chapter 22 THE STORM BREAKS23 Chapter 23 AFTER THE STORM