Love Among the Chickens

fe is flowing smoothly, arethe novels they write in that period of content coloured withoptimism? And if things

inenthave the power of detaching their writing self from their living,work-a-day self; but, for my own part, the frame of mind in which Inow found myself had a disastrous effect on my novel that was to be. I

hemselves into the schemeof it. A magnificent

ke a resolute effort to

as borne inupon me. Day and night I spurred my brain to t

furiously on thelinks, and swam about the harbour whe

tar, and cameout an unspeakable object. Ukridge put his spare pair of tennis shoesin the incubator to dry them, and permanently spoiled the future ofhalf-a-dozen eggs which happened to have got t

ces, however, his buoyant op

morning asking when my firstconsignment was going to arrive. You know, these people make a mistakein hurrying a man. It annoys him. It irritates him. When we really getgoing, Garny, my boy, I shall drop Whiteley's. I shall cut them out ofmy list and send my eggs to their trade rivals. They shall have asharp lesson. It's a little hard. Here am I, worked to death lookingafter things down here, and these men have the impertinence to botherme abo

to see the most astounding thi

e chickens. There was certainly something the matterwith them. They were yawning--broadly, as if we bored

ed. "Because if so,that's what they've got. I never saw a more bored-looking

be the matter with it?""I tell you what we'll do," said Ukridge. "We'll ask Beale.

d through the bushes, carrying aboot. We seemed t

er with thesechickens?"The Hired Retainer examined

?" said

s these 'ere fowlshave been and got the roop."I had

s them yawn like tha

m.""And have they all got it?""Yes, ma'

gave themsnuff.""Give them snuff, she did," he repeated,

eyes bubbled."Mrs. Ukridge uttered a faint

cure them?"

sponded the exp

and clean your beastl

im what hedoes when his fowls get the roop.""Yes, sir.""No, I'll go, Ukridge," I said. "I want some exercise."I whistled to Bob, who was investigating a mole-heap in the paddock,and set off in the

At intervals itpasses over a stream by means of a foot

st of these brid

omebody coming through the grass, but nottill I was on the bridge did I see who it was. We reached t

one on the footbridge, and

first sign of recognition,I said nothing. I me

said to myself. She answeredthe unspoken

d, stopping at the end

e English language. At a crisis when I would havegiven a month's income to have said something neat, epigrammatic,suggestive, yet withal courteous and re

ds.""Yes," I said gloomily, "I suppose so.""So you must not think

en I amwith my father. You will understand?""I shall understand.

ee," I

ched her out of sight, and we

was verbose andreminiscent. He took me over his farm, pointing out as we wentDorkings with pasts, and Cochin

ed at, and one which Iproposed to leave exclusively to Ukridge and the Hired Retainer--andalso a slight headache. A vi

there was deep water o

companion was a gigantic boatman, by name Harry Hawk, possibly adescendant of the gentleman of that name who went to Widdicombe Fairwith

Itwas an instructive sight, an object-lesson to those who hold that

f he were at all likely to c

ing with a straw, my mindranged idly over large subjects and small. I thought of love andchicken-farming. I mused on the immortality of the soul and thedeplorable speed at which two

if he werevery hot. I tried to picture his boyhood. I spec

hen amovement on the part of that oarsman set the boat rocking,

progressed rapidly. I i

uld not happen in real life. In my hot youth I once hadseven stories in seven weekly penny papers in the same month, alldealing with a situation of the kind. Only the details differed. In"Not really a Coward" Vincent Devereux had rescued the earl's daughterfrom a fire, wherea

eat idea surged into my brain. At four minutes totwelve I had been grumbling impotently at Pro

therefore, cease any connection with it, and start a rivalbusiness on my ow

of its own accord, I would arrange one for myself. Hawk looked to methe

which subsequently appeared in the /Recording Angel/:--* * * * */Thre

nce came to the scratch

alluding to thewarmth of the weather and the fact that the professor habituallyenjoyed a bathe every day. Much sparring, Consc

llis say if she knew?" Garnet, however, side-stepped cleverly with "But she won't know," and followed up theadvantage with a damaging, "Besides, it's all for

that the round would be a briefone. This proved to be the case. Early in the second minute Garnetcross-co

ose, feeling m

wed Mr. Hawk in the bar-par

time you take Professor Derrick outfishing"--here I glanced round, to make sure that we were n

I do that fo

" said I, "but I am prepar

ed his po

pt on g

ed with

concise. Mychoice of words was superb. I crystallised my id

actical joke. He gave me to understand that this was the typeof humour which was to be expected from a gentleman from London. I amafraid he must

uld not give my true reason,

at he, too, would get wet when theaccident took

t is dying out of our rural districts. Twenty years ago afisherman woul