Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-08-02
Scratching For a
Living

| The speckled hen called her brood
of half-grown chicks around her. She
wanted to give them some good part
ing advice.
"My dear children" she said. "tae
time has come when you are no longer
my baby chicks. You are all now
large enough to make your own living.
I have taught you where to 60 to look
for the incest worms and how to get
them. Now will have to leave each
of you to scratch for q living
When she said this, her handsomest
son, who had always been called lazy,
threw his head up in the hair and said:
Scratch for a living. indeed! Well, I
guess not!" And he strutted about
the yard, lifting his feet daintily from
the ground, as II he were afraid they
would become soiled.
my son." cried the good mother,
how do you expect to make your liv-
ing II you do not scratch?"
BY this time all OF the barnyard
fowls had gathered around.
"How do expect to make my Iv.
ing1" echoed the son, as he preened
and smoothed the glossy feathers in
one of his wings. Mother, you talk
as II we were the commonest fowls
in the world" and he looked about him
in naughty disdain at the plain, white
chickens and those that wore dark.
dull. coats.
"Oh, you are all handsome children
as far as that goes" said the mother,
'but your beauty will not bring you
your breakfast. What are you going
70 do for something to eat?''
All the chickens, geese, ducks, and
turkeys were anxiously awaiting the
young sons reply. They wanted to
know what he was planning to do.
With great firt Of his crimson head
he said: well, mother dear, and my
good sisters and brothers." turning to
them also, Il am going to sing for my
living"
Sing" cried his mother
! "Sing!" cried his sisters and broth
bodily smiled.
Yes, mean to sing for. my living"
and he strutted about boastfully.
At this moment little bird began
10 sing joyously in the apple tree. He
sang as if his little throat would burst.
Sweet, sweet" he cried.
There said the mother hen, can
you sing like that?"
| !
Lets hear you,'' she said
Eyes, do, dol" cried the old gray
goose.
DO, do!' cried the other fowls.
Very we'll" replied the vain young
rooster. Give me ROOM"
The fowls gave him clear space
under the apple tree. He proudly
took his place upon the top of the
coop.
Sweet, sweet" cried the little bird
again.
There" called the old gray goose,
"sing like that
| The young rooster saw that they
were all ready to laugh at him if he
made failure, SO he threw his head
back, tapped his wings, and began.
Sweet" called the little bird.
"Cocka-doodle-do." squawked the
young rooster, in a hoarse voice.
"Cock-a"-but could get no farther.
All of the fowls were laughing at
him. The funny old green-headed duck
over in the corner quacked and laugh
ed until her sides ached. Even the
bossy calf in the next lot mooed with
joy. The young ROSTERS poor mother
and sisters were sorry for him, but the
other fowls were glad They thought
he had learned lesson
The next evening the old gray goose
went up to the mother hen. Where
is your handsome SON." she asked.
Out in the back lot scratching some
supper for his sisters" she replied.
Let us learn from this to do those
things that we can do, and not, like
the silly young rooster, try to do those
things for which we were nevert In
tended.