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twice they knocked her over, upon which she arose and pecked them severely, and they retired to a safe distance, and sitting in a circle, yapped at her. I think they began to suspect that she was only a hen after all. So Emly resigned with an indifference which surprised me, until I remembered that if it had been chickens, she would have ceased to look after them by this time. But here she was again out of a job, as the Virginian said. Shes raised them puppies for that triflin setter, and now shell be huntin around for something else useful to do that aint in her business. Now there were other broods of chickens to arrive in the hen-house, and I did not desire any more bantam and turkey performances. So, to avoid confusion, I played a trick upon Emly. I went down to Sunk Creek and fetched some smooth, oval stones. She was quite satisfied with these, and passed a quiet day with them in a box. This was not fair, the Virginian asserted. You aint going to jus leave her fooled that a-way? I did not see why not. Why, she raised them puppies all right. Aint she showed she knows how to be a mother anyways? Emly aint going to get her time took up for nothing while Im round hyeh, said the cowpuncher. He laid a gentle hold of Emly and tossed her to the ground. She, of course, rushed out among the corrals in a great state of nerves. I dont see what good you do meddling, I protested. To this he deigned no reply, but removed the unresponsive stones from the straw. Why, if they aint right warm! he exclaimed plaintively. The poor, deluded son-of-a-gun! And with this unusual description of a lady, he sent the stones sailing like a line of birds. Im regular getting stuck on Emly, continued the Virginian. Yu neednt to laugh. Dont yu see shes got sort o human feelins and desires? I always knowed hawsses was like people, and my collie, of course. It is kind of foolish, I expect, but that hens goin to have a real aigg di-rectly, right now, to set on. With this he removed one from beneath another hen. Well have Emly raise this hyeh, said he, so she can put in her time profitable. It was not accomplished at once; for Emly, singularly enough, would not consent to stay in the box whence she had been routed. At length we found another retreat for her, and in these new surroundings, with a new piece of work for her to do, Emly sat on the one egg which the Virginian had so carefully provided for her. Thus, as in all genuine tragedies, was the stroke of Fate wrought by chance and the best intentions. Emly began sitting on Friday afternoon near sundown. Early next morning my sleep was gradually dispersed by a sound unearthly and continuous. Now it dwindled, receding to a distance; again it came near, took a turn, drifted to the other side of the house; then, evidently, whatever it was, passed my door close, and I jumped upright in my bed. The high, tense strain of vibration, nearly, but not quite, a musical note, was like the threatening scream of machinery, though weaker, and I bounded out of the house in my pajamas. There was Emly, dishevelled, walking wildly about, her one egg miraculously hatched within ten hours. The little lonely yellow ball of down went cheeping along behind, following its mother as best it could. What, then, had happened to the established period of incubation? For an instant the thing was like a portent, and I was near joining Emly in her horrid surprise, when I saw how it all was. The Virginian had taken an egg from a hen which had already been sitting for three weeks. I dressed in haste, hearing Emlys distracted outcry. It steadily sounded, without perceptible pause for breath, and marked her erratic journey back and forth through stables, lanes, and corrals. The shrill |
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