Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1880-08-18
Trying to Drive a Hen.
BY KATE THORNE.

BY KATE THORNE.
Did you ever undertake to drive
hen anywhere? If not, then never say
"Where there's will there's way" or
'All things are possible to him who per-
severes," because you don't know any
thing abort it.
/ Driving a hen properly, and decor
Dusty, and successfully, requires more
skill than capturing herd of buffalo.
/ The hen you want to drive is always a
stron1-minded hen. If she had been a
woman she would have wanted the bal
lot long ago, and her husband would
have had to keep quiet when she ''got
set" on anything. But being only hen,
all she can do rs to cackle, and be con-
trary, and thwart you at every turn.
If you want her to 60 IN somewhere
she'll be sure to want to 60 out, and gjce
Uersa You want to drive her most when
she gets out of the coop, and gets into
your garden, to the total destruction of
your pet bulbs, and roots, and seeds, and
everything else. One smart, active hen
will do more harm in one hour than a
COW would in half a day.
A hen is born with an instinct to get
at the root of the matter, and she follows
out her nature.
When your hen gets out of confne-
ment she makes straight for your
choicest f1ower-bed, and she stays there
for an hour before you discover her.
BY that time she has dug out everything
that you cared anything about, and has
buried herself up all but her head, and
there she lies in the sun with happiness
and triumph in her speaking countc-
nance.
How mad you are! You feel as if you
could sever her joints and make her into
pot-pie with will-no matter if she is
one of the trio that cost ten dollars.
You 60 for her with energy, and
scream out "shoopat her, and flourish
your apron, and make wild gestures in
her direction, and call your husband,
and the children, and the hired girl, to
help drive her into her quarters.
Now it is never any use to call a man
to help drive hen. We are wiling to
admit that the lords of creation can &
quantities of things that the weaker SCI
cannot, but there is one thing man can
never do-and that is drive hen.
He'll break the rake-handle, and get
hung in the clothes-line, and lose his
hat, and fall down over the croquet
wickets, and burst off two or three of
his suspender buttons, and the hen will
fly up on the top of the barn, or take ref
uge in the tallest tree on the premises,
and there she will stay and laugh at him
until she is ready to come down. And
all the men in creation cannot drive her
down, for she knows that she has got
things her own wuy.
Your hen that you are going to drive
generally cackles all the time you are
tn 6riy +
age, perhaps, to defy you. 1t is like the
music of martial band when the
troops are marching into battle 1t is as
inspiring as the strains of Yankee Doodle
to the hens ear. You try gentleness
first.
"Shoo, biddyl shoe, biddy! shoe,
there?" and she plunges off in the direc-
ton contrary to the one you wish her to
go in; and then you draw off your forces
and execute flank movement, and
"pen" her up, but, presto! just as you
think you have got her, she squats and
gives a scoot right out under your skirts,
and away she goes free as air. Then
you get some corn and try to bride her.
Oh, no, she doesn't want any corn, thank
you. She is above bribery. She doesn't
take any stock in your ''chicky chicky
chicky" delivered In your most cajoling
of voices. Still she cackles. All the
roosters cackle, too, evidently tickled
with her spunk A few hens who are
not curious join in. All the neighbors
will be looking out to see "what on earth
you are making them hens screech SO
for"
Your husband gets pole and makes
dive for that hen. He'll fix her cackle
for her he says; she'll GO into that hen
house or he'll know the reason!
And by the time he has chased her all
over the premises and torn his pants,
and knocked piece Of skin off LIS
hand, and run over little Charley, he
does find out the reason: It is because
she is not OF mind to go into that hen
house.
And he says that hens are nuisance,
and that he'll kill the whole of ZEN, and |
he wishes there had never been one in
vented.
BY this time you are tired of his help, |
and you request him to go away and
you'll drive that hen.
Then you begin, and the hen begins,
too. She flies over the fence, and up on |
nelghbor's woodshed, and down into
somebody's .plg-pen, and the pig takes
after her with vim, and she flies out |
with screen, and runs under the barn, |
and there she stays till night, and then
if you Will leave open your hen-house
door she will find her way thither, as
meek and innocent looking as you please
for chickens and curses come home
to roost."