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Queer Little Folks | Harriet Beecher Stowe | |
Hen that Hatched Ducks |
Page 3 of 6 |
"Bless my soul," said he, "you've no idea how cross my wife is." "O you horrid creature!" said Mrs. Red Comb. "How little you feel for the weaknesses of us poor hens!" "On my word, ma'am," said Gray Cock, "you do me injustice. But when a hen gives way to temper, ma'am, and no longer meets her husband with a smile--when she even pecks at him whom she is bound to honour and obey--" "Horrid monster! talking of obedience! I should say, sir, you came straight from Turkey." And Mrs. Red Comb tossed her head with a most bewitching air, and pretended to run away; and old Mrs. Scratchard looked out of her coop and called to Goody Kertarkut, - "Look how Mr. Gray Cock is flirting with that widow. I always knew she was a baggage." "And his poor wife left at home alone," said Goody Kertarkut. "It's the way with 'em all!" "Yes, yes," said Dame Scratchard, "she'll know what real life is now, and she won't go about holding her head so high, and looking down on her practical neighbours that have raised families." "Poor thing! what'll she do with a family?" said Goody Kertarkut. "Well, what business have such young flirts to get married?" said Dame Scratchard. "I don't expect she'll raise a single chick; and there's Gray Cock flirting about, fine as ever. Folks didn't do so when I was young. I'm sure my husband knew what treatment a sitting hen ought to have,--poor old Long Spur! he never minded a peck or so and then. I must say these modern fowls ain't what fowls used to be." |
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Queer Little Folks Harriet Beecher Stowe |
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