THE POULTRY GO ON STRIKE
The five girls of Green Hill walked along the country road a ways with
the girls from the village, and then returned to the farm. As they
turned in at the gate opening to the side-path leading to the porch,
they distinctly heard the pigs squealing as if they were being
tortured. They found Rachel in a piazza rocker, swaying back and forth
furiously while she strained her eyes in the semi-darkness for a sight
of the delinquent stock-scout. The moment she heard the group of girls
as they approached the house, she shouted angrily:
“Is dat Janet wid you-all?”
Being assured that Janet was one of the party, Rachel continued: “How
kin you go off sky-larkin’ likes-how-you-do, Janet, aknowin’ dem pigs
is starvin’? I tells you it is such cruelty to anermals as I never
seed!”
“I’m awfully sorry, Rachel, but I had intended going to feed them when
Jimmy said she thought it would please our visitors if we accompanied
them a short distance along the road,” said Janet, apologetically.
Rachel dared not criticise Mrs. James’s motives or advise, so she
jumped up from the rocker and snapped shortly: “Come and fetch dis
mush out to dem at onct!”
“I wish one of you girls would come with me and hold the light,”
ventured Janet, looking around at the faces in the semi-darkness.
“I’ll go with you, if you like, Jan,” offered Norma when no one else
seemed over-anxious to take advantage of the invitation.
As Janet went to the kitchen to get the pan of corn-meal, Rachel added
shortly: “Feed dem good ef you expecks us to git any sleep tonight!”
The girls sitting on the steps of the porch knew to a certainty the
moment the pigs got their supper, for the tumult ceased suddenly. It
was silent evidence that they were busy with the tardy supper.
Early in the morning, Rachel roused the household by shouting wildly:
“Dem fowl’s got out and are in Natalie’s wegetables! Da’s whad comes
f’om not feedin’ ’em supper afore bedtime!”
So Janet wearily ran out and raced about, first shooing away one
hungry hen and then another, but finally calling on all her friends to
help round them up and drive them back to the coop.
“I never knew anything to be more misappropriately named—Plymouth
Rocks. The way those horny birds can skip around beats everything!”
declared Janet, as she collapsed on the kitchen steps and wiped her
streaming face.
“You’ve just got to keep them locked up until that new wire fence is
finished, Janet,” commanded Natalie, angrily. “I’m not running a
truck-farm for your stock to eat up.”
“Poor Nat! She has done nothing since the barnyard pets came, but
replant vegetables twice a day,” laughed Belle.
After breakfast Janet said she would go to Four Corners and bring back
the wire so that no time need be lost in immediately starting the
fence.
“I’ll go with you, Jan, and help carry it back,” offered Belle.
“So’ll I, Janet,” added Frances.
Norma had too much to do in planting flowers, to think of accompanying
her friends, and Natalie was too angry to offer to assist in any way
in curbing the chickens’ escapades. So the three girls started for the
store, leaving the poultry locked securely in the hen-house until such
times as the runway was safely inclosed.
But they had not been gone very long, before Frances’s father and
mother drove up in the automobile. It was Norma who suggested that Mr.
Lowden play the Good Samaratin and go for the girls, to help them
bring back the roll of wire-netting. So the girls and their wire were
soon back again at Green Hill, as I told you fully, in the first book.
Then the main object of the Lowdens’ visit was explained, and the
rejoicing of the girls was vociferous and deafening. When high spirits
had been calmed somewhat by Mr. Lowden’s warnings he left the car for
them to use that summer.
Frances said: “I think it is a strange coincidence that only last
night I should write Daddy a letter and asked him this very great
favor. All the time he and Mother were planning it.”
After the Lowdens had gone, Janet said she must begin work on the
chicken-fence. Mrs. James offered to go with her and help, and Belle
said she might as well go, too. Frances had driven her parents to the
station, so she was not there to be drafted into service for Janet.
Janet unrolled the entire length of wire upon the ground and then
stood studying it, as if for inspiration of how to handle it. Mrs.
James watched her, and finally remarked:
“Why did you get it so wide, Janet? It’s five feet, at least, and you
really do not need it any wider than three feet.”
“I was afraid the chickens would fly over if it was only three feet
high,” explained Janet.
“Well you’ve got it now, so let’s get busy and put it up,” was Belle’s
sensible advice.
“You go over to the other end of the wire, Belle, and stand on it to
keep it from flying back as it does every time I move it,” suggested
Janet, because the netting rolled itself up just when it was not
expected to.
Mrs. James supplied herself with a mouthful of nails, and a few extra
ones in her hand that held the hammer, then went to the first post in
the row. She turned to tell Janet what to do but the nails in her
mouth kept her from being understood so she had to remove them before
she could speak intelligibly.
“I said for you to drag the wire over to me so I could nail one end to
this post,” she repeated.
Janet did as she was told, but Belle had stepped from the other end of
the wire to get the box so that Mrs. James might put the nails back in
the box instead of back in her mouth. Consequently, the moment Janet
began to lift the end of the wire the rest of it rebounded like a live
thing. It coiled so unexpectedly and suddenly that the opposite end
flew up, the ragged ends of the wire scratching Janet’s face and then
catching in her fluffy hair.
“Ouch! Someone come and get this out of my hair, please!” cried the
girl, tears in her eyes.
“Hold perfectly still, for a moment!” called Belle, running over to
her assistance.
“Ooh—oo—uch! That hurts, Belle!” cried Janet, as the wires tugged at
her hair unmercifully when Belle tried to untangle them. Then she had
to call upon Mrs. James to help.
Frances had returned and, from Rachel, heard that the three had gone
to the barn to build a chicken run, so she joined them there. She was
just in time to hear Janet wail pitifully, and see the free end of the
wire twist and writhe. This, of course, made the other end pull the
harder on Janet’s hair.
“Wait! I’ll stand on this end so it can’t move. Then you can work
better,” called Frances, jumping upon the wire as she spoke.
When the hair was freed at last from the hold of the wire ends, Mrs.
James advised Frances to remain standing where she was to hold down
the netting where it belonged.
“I’ll hold it with my hands and when you want to drag it over to the
post, just call to me and I will crawl over with it, while holding it
to keep it from jumping again,” said Frances.
As this was considered a very clever plan, it was approved and Mrs.
James again took hold of the wire to nail it fast to a post.
“There now, Janet, while Belle holds it right in this position, you
can nail it down all along the edge. Drive the nails about six inches
apart, from the top of the post to the bottom,” said Mrs. James,
handing the tools to Janet.
“Where are you going?” wondered the stock-farmer.
“I’m going back to the house to get a large pair of shears. We will
need them to cut off the ragged ends of wire when we reach the side of
the chicken-house.”
When Mrs. James had gone, Janet said: “Let’s see if we can have all
the wire up before she gets back. It looks awfully easy to nail.”
They were so engrossed in nailing the wire, beginning at the top of
the post and fastening it down the outside of the post, that neither
of them realized the mistake they were making. Having nailed it
securely for halfway the length of the post, Janet found the netting
resist her efforts to fit in closely. She stood back to seek an
explanation for this and cried, “Oh!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Belle, seeing her angry face.
“I never thought to measure the old post. Neither did Jimmy. Our wire
is five feet wide and that post can’t be more than three and a half
feet high. Now just look at that wire!”
They looked, but that did no good at this late moment. The extra one
and a half feet of wire overlapped on the ground and was of no use
there. It kept the wire from fitting snugly to the post, that was all.
“We’ve got to pull the nails out again, Janet, and begin to nail the
wire down to the post, starting from the bottom up,” suggested Belle,
eyeing the problem judiciously.
“And I hit those nails so hard—just to make them stay put!” sighed
Janet.
“Don’t let’s waste words over what was done wrong, but let’s find a
way to get the nails out again,” advised Frances, wisely.
“What can I use to pull them with?” asked Belle.
“That’s a claw-hammer. Use the claw on the other end of the handle,”
said Janet.
So Belle managed to worm a way under each nail and get the claw
underneath so it gripped the head of the nail, and then she bent the
handle backward until the nail came out. After many mishaps, all the
nails were out but they were so misshapen that they had to be flung
away as useless. Then the two girls fitted the wire at the bottom of
the post close to the ground, and began to nail down the wire, working
upwards to the top of the post.
“It looks queer, sticking a foot and a half above the post, doesn’t
it?” said Belle.
“I don’t care about looks. It is on right, this time, and that is the
principle thing,” retorted Janet.
“Maybe the wire will prove to be so resistant that it will stand up
above the posts, all right, when we get it all fastened to the
places,” suggested Frances.
After this, the girls fitted the wire from post to post finding it a
very difficult matter to lift and hold the twisty netting in place
while it was being nailed flat to the posts. They had secured it to
four posts on one side of the run and were trying to make it bend
about the corner post so it could be nailed down and fitted across the
end of the run-way too, when Mrs. James was seen coming back.
She stopped in dismay when she came near enough to see what was being
done. The workers saw her expression and went over to her side to view
the work from her vantage point.
“The wire runs uphill, girls. It fits, all right, at the first post,
but from there on it gets higher and higher, from the ground, until it
is a good fifteen inches above the ground at that corner post. Every
chicken you have can walk under the gap, with its head erect. They
wouldn’t have to stoop to crawl under,” laughed Mrs. James.
“Now how did that happen?” demanded Janet, ready to cry.
“We were most particular, Jimmy, about fitting it,” added Belle,
frowning at the problem.
“Well, it can’t remain that way, you’ll agree with me,” commented Mrs.
James.
“No, it’s all got to come down again,” sighed Frances.
“Here, Frans! You told us how to do it, and now you take this
claw-hammer and work those nails out again. This time I’ll stand on
the end of the wire and do the bossing,” said Belle.
Frances thought it was awfully funny, so she laughingly tried the
claw-hammer to get out the nails. Several times the claw slipped and
her hands were scratched, and once the hammer went right through the
wire and she came, suddenly, with her face flat up against the wire.
That was not so funny even though the other two girls laughed heartily
at her.
When all the wire was laid flat upon the ground once more, it was
found that the end that had been nailed to the first post was cut
decidedly on the bias, and that accounted for the rest of the wire
being fitted on a gradual incline as they ran it along the fence-line.
Before they could help Mrs. James cut the bias end to become a square
end, Rachel came down the lane in order to see the finish of the
fencing job.
“Well sakes! Ain’t you even begun yit?” was her comment.
“Certainly! We began twice, and this will be the third time,” retorted
Janet.
“Whad’s the matter? Yoh ain’t got nuttin’ to show fer the work,” was
Rachel’s reply.
“That’s because we are figuring on posts. The wire is five feet wide
and the posts only three and a half. Perhaps we will have to get Ames
to set up new posts, after all,” explained Janet, but she would not
say a word to Rachel about the poor judgment she and her helpers had
shown in running the fence skyward.
“I kin fix dat trouble in no time, honey,” declared Rachel, taking a
look at the posts and then going to the barn.
When she reappeared she was carrying an armful of thick slats which
she had found in the harness-room on the floor. She joined the waiting
carpenters and threw the load upon the ground.
“I don’no what dese is foh, but dey is jus’ what you wants fer to lift
dem postes up higher. Now give me dat hammeh.”
Rachel’s powerful arms soon had the slats nailed securely to the top
of the posts so that they were extended two feet higher than they were
before. The extensions were quite firm, too, so the girls again
started to attach the wire to the first post.
“Say! You ain’t goin’ to bother wid all that wire while you air
tackin’ on one piece, is you?” demanded Rachel.
“You don’t expect us to cut it in small lengths, do you?” asked Janet.
“Sure not, but do it dis way. Why use a hull length of wire at one
time when you kin only work on one piece at a time? Now you rolls it
up like dis”—Rachel demonstrated her words—“and stan’s it propeh like
agin a post.”
Rachel stood the roll of wire upright against the post and nailed the
end close to the post. Then she began unrolling the wire along the
ground, while it was still in its upright position, but she stopped
short, about midway between the two posts.
“Laws-a-massy-me! You gals ain’t got no grain of sense! Does yoh
expeck dem fowl to sit in dat runway and not dig a way out unner dis
wire? Dey’ll do dat fust chanst!”
“Is there anything we ought to do?” queried Janet, wishing all poultry
in Timbuctoo.
“Suah! Run to the heap of ole lumbeh back ob dat barn and fetch me
half a dozen bo’ads. All of you gals go foh ’em.”
In a short time the girls came back, each dragging a board under their
arms. These were examined by Rachel and approved of. Then she took the
first one which was about ten inches wide and nailed it inside the
posts, so that it ran along the ground much like a base-molding is
placed in a room where floor and side-wall meet.
“Now, you see, we kin nail dat wire fas’ to dis bo’ard and no hen kin
scratch a way out t’roo a plank like dis is.”
Rachel remained to help them with the tiresome task, and when it was
completed, it looked pretty good to the builders.
“I never dreamed that a little thing like a strip of wire was so hard
to manage while turning it into a fence,” sighed Janet.
“It’s like mos’ t’ings, Janet—easy when you knows how to do ’em,”
chuckled Rachel. “Now shove dat box away f’om the do’h of the coop so
dem fowl kin run out in the mawnin’.”
“Why not tonight?” asked Belle.
“Oh, they’ve gone to roost before this,” said Janet. “They have been
roosting all day, more or less, because they were in a dark house.”
Mrs. James picked up the hammer, and Rachel took the box of nails, and
the two went back to the house, followed slowly by Belle and Frances
who were talking over the recent carpenter work. Janet begged Norma to
help her feed the pigs that night so she could finish before darkness
fell.
“I won’t take the time to go to the kitchen and cook them a pot of
mush tonight,” said Janet, as she led the way to the pig-pen. “But
I’ll give them an extra measure of shorts and corn, for this once.”
The grain had been delivered the day before but Janet had not given
the pigs more than a taste of it. Tonight, however, she supplied them
liberally with corn and other grain until they actually ate slowly
towards the last.
At supper, that night, which was very late because of the carpenter
work, Norma spoke of the dry sandy quality of the flower-beds. “Mrs.
Tompkins told me to examine the soil and if it was too dry to be sure
and mix a good rich compost with the dry and lumpy dirt.”
“If you find the soil is too sandy, Norma, what did you plan to do
about securing the compost?” asked Mrs. James.
“I was wondering if Natalie had any left from the cart-load Farmer
Ames delivered here for the gardens,” replied Norma.
“No, we used every bit we had for the small vegetables,” explained
Mrs. James. “But Natalie could use some more, to the best advantage,
on the corn-field and the new garden she proposes to have Ames plough.
So you two girls might share the costs for a load from Ames’ farm.”
“Why doesn’t Norma use leaf-mold, Jimmy? You said yourself that there
was nothing like it. She can hire all the scouts to dig and carry it
in baskets from the woods,” suggested Natalie.
“Mrs. Tompkins said that a good barnyard compost well mixed with the
dry soil, was best of all manures for the flowers. But it must be
thoroughly mixed. Then, she said, a fine leaf-mold was excellent for
top-dressing. So I think I will listen to Mrs. Tompkins who has such
wonderful results with her plants,” replied Norma.
“Yes, Norma is quite right to abide by the rule Mrs. Tompkins uses. No
one in or near Four Corners has such flowers,” said Mrs. James.
“Well, then, Norma and I can order a load from Ames when we see him
again,” said Natalie.
“We’ll see him drive past on his way to the store,” was Janet’s
suggestion.
“If he doesn’t go past, I will leave an order at Four Corners for him
to deliver the compost as soon as possible, shall I?” asked Frances.
“Yes, do, Frans, please!” exclaimed both girls in one voice.
“Write it on a card and then Tompkins can put it in his letter-box,”
suggested Mrs. James.