Love Among the Chickens

-"Garnet, Jeremy, o.s. of late Henry Garnet, vicar of Much Middlefold,Salop; author. Publications: 'The Outsider,' 'The Manoeuvres ofArthur.' Hobbies: Cricket, football, swimming, golf.

with fortitude. That much-enduring man has had a l

hed into theroom, clinging on to the pince-nez which even

nthe grip like the bite of a horse. "How /are/ you, old buck? This isg

lish handsome fellow! You'll be glad youcame when you see him. Beats the Zoo hollow!"There appe

on of joys and sorrows and all the rest ofit. In fact," in a burst of confidence, "my wife."I bow

this must be either the easy manner of Genius ordue to alcohol, and hoping for the best. He also used it to perfectstrangers in the streets, and on one occasion had been heard toaddress a bishop by that title, rendering that dignitary, as Mr. BabooJaberjee would put it, /sotto voce/ with gratification. "Surprised tofind me married, what? Garny, old boy,"--s

hap."He was out of the door and on his way downstairs before the echoes ofhis

of thearmchair, looking very small and quiet. I was conscious of feeling abenevolent pity for her. If I had been a girl, I would have preferredto marry a volcano. A little of Ukridge, as his former

masters at the same school."Mrs. Ukridge

ow nice!" she sa

of her voice, hadshe found any disadvantages attached

rfully versatil

a jolly good try!""Have you ever kept fowls?

She looked

d 'Fowls and All About Them,' andthis week's copy of C.A.C.""C.A.C.?""/Chiefly About Chickens/. It's a paper, you know. But it's all ratherhard to understand. You see, we . . . but here is Stanley. He willexplai

as a certain amountof unpleasantness. Still, it seemed bright and interesting up to pagethree. But let's settle down and talk business. I've got a scheme foryou, Garny old man. Yessir, the idea of a thousand years. Now listento me for a moment. Let me get a word in edgeways."He s

nterest me. It showed a curious tendencyto cre

arnet's the man! Clever devil,Garnet. Full of ideas.' Didn't I, Millie?""Yes, dear.""Laddie," said Ukridge

that we were going to keep fowls, I didn't mean ina small, piffling sort of way--two cocks and a couple of hens and agolf-ball for a nest-egg. We are going

s theidea of a lifetime. Now listen to me for a moment. You get your hen--""One hen?""Call it one for the sake of argument. It makes my calculationsclearer. Very well, then. Harriet the hen--you get her. Do you followme so far?""Yes. You get a hen.""I told you Garnet was a dashed bright fellow," said Ukridgeapprovingly to his

. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Very well, then. When each ofthe dozen has a dozen chickens, you send the old hens back to thechappies you borrowed them from, with thanks for kind loan; and thereyou are, starting business with a hundred and forty-four free chickensto your name. And after a bit, when the chickens grow up and begin tolay, all you have to do is to sit back in your chair and endorse thebig cheques. Isn't that so, Millie?""Yes, dear.""We've fixed it all up. Do you know Combe Regis, in D

and meet usat Waterloo to-morrow.""It's awfully good of you . . .""Not a bit of it--not a bit of it. This is pure business. I was s

at you want in a business of this sort is a touchof the dreamer to help out the practical mind. We look to you forsuggestions, laddie. Flashes of inspira

hundred pounds . . . But we'llarrange all that end of it when we get down there. Millie will lookafter that. She's the secretary of the concern. She's been writingletters to

and enterprise.""Six of them haven't answered, Stanley, dear, and the rest r

horse?"Strange how one reaches an epoch-making moment in one's life withoutrecognising it. If I had refused that invitation, I would not have--

omewhere where I could get s

enough to help myself to bread sauce when I see one, but nomore.""Excellent! You're just the man. You will bring to the work a mindunclouded by theories. You will act solely by the light of yourintelligence. And you've got lots of that. That novel of yours showedthe most extraordinary intelligence--at least as far as that blighterat the bookstall would let me read. I wouldn't have a professionalc