My Dear Little Readers:--I have often wondered why there were not more
stories written about Chickens and their friends, and now I am glad
that there have been so few, for I have greatly enjoyed writing some
for you. Did I ever tell you that I cared for my father's Chickens
when I was a little girl? That was one of my duties, and the most
pleasant of all. It was not until I was older that I became acquainted
with Ducks, Geese, and Turkeys, and I always wish that I might have
lived on a poultry farm like the one of which I have written, for then
I could have learned much more than I did.
You must not think that I understand no language but English. I
learned Chicken-talk when I was very young; and in the fall, when the
Quails wander through the stubble-fields near my home, I have many
visits with them, calling back and forth "Bob White! Bob White!" and
other agreeable things which they like to hear. My little boys can
talk exactly like Chickens, and sometimes they pretend that they are
Chickens, while I talk Turkey to them.
When you have a chance, you must learn these languages. They are often
very useful to one. My friend, who drives in his Hens by imitating the
warning cry of a Cock, had been a teacher in a college for several
years before he studied poultry-talk, and it helped him greatly.
You see, one must learn much outside of school, as well as inside, in
order to be truly well educated. You should never look at poultry and
say, "Why, they are only Hens!" or "Why, they are only Ducks!" Quite
likely when they look at you they may be thinking, "Why, they are only
boys!" or "Why, they are only girls!" Yet if you are gentle and care
for them, you and they will learn to think a great deal of each
other, and you will win new friends among the feathered people.
Your friend,
CLARA D. PIERSON.