Bontemps--35

He had heard many roosters crow, and he had always thought that he would like to be able to crow someday. A few times he had tried, but when he opened his mouth, all he said was *peep-peep*. It made him feel ashamed to open his mouth so wide for just such a small sound. So he had decided that he would let no one hear him when he tried it again. His mother had told him that a young fellow could crow much better when he was very happy. So this was a very good time to try, Frizzly Chick thought.

The grass was tall behind the old shed. Frizzly Chick crept away into a dark clump, stood on his toes, flapped his wings, stretched his mouth open, crooked his neck and went *cock-a-doodle-doooo*.

Maybe that sounded a little bit hoarse, he thought, but it was real crowing just the same. I didn't have breath enough in my lungs to hold that last *doooo* as long as the big roosters hold it, but anyone could tell that it was real crowing. I wonder who heard me.

Then an idea occurred to him. The others should hear him crow. It would make them respect him more-- since they didn't know about his magic power. The speckled chicks should hear him. None of them had learned to crow yet. Yes, by all means, they must hear him.

Bontemps--37

"Well, you needn't be so smart."

"You can't do it," Frizzly Chick said.

So they began to quarrel and soon they were flying
at each other and fighting.

But before either one got hurt, the old black man
came out with some feed and both of them forgot what it
was they were fighting about. They began eating fast
to get their share of the grain.

Frizzly Chick thought, Fighting isn't really neces-
sary. But I'm stronger than he is. I can crow, too,
and he can't.

Bontemps--38

VIII. THE PICNIC

One bright morning when Frizzly Chick came back from
a stroll down by the creek, he found the old horse hitched
to a buggy and standing in the drive. The day was get-
ting very warm, and Frizzly Chick thought he would like
to take a ride. So he hopped up on a wheel of the buggy,
then hopped onto the cross-board over the back axel.
It was a very good place to ride, he thought, and a good
place to see the country, too.

After a while the old black man with the white wool
on his head came outside dressed in a long-tailed coat,
a canary-colored tall hat, canary-colored spats, and a

Bontemps--39

white vest with flowers painted on it. He was carrying
a cane. A few minutes later his wife came out. She
wore a pumpkin-colored dress and a leaf-colored hat, and
she carried in her hand a big basket of lunch. Neither
of these old people noticed Frizzly Chick on the back of
the buggy. Both of them climbed into the seat; they
threw a lap rug across their knees, and the old man
clucked to his horse.

Away they went with dust streaming off the wheels
and blowing away behind. Frizzly Chick sat as still as
a mouse. He could feel a pleasant breeze as the buggy
rolled along. And it was very wonderful, he thought,
to watch the trees and houses and hills slipping past
as if the buggy were standing still and they were moving.
Frizzly Chick was glad he had come.

Soon they turned off the big road and drove into
the woods by a creek. And when the old man finally stop-
ped the horse, Frizzly Chick could see that they were
at a picnic. There were many other buggys and carts and
wagons and mules and horses under the trees, and over
in a clearing there was a crowd of black people having
a wonderful time. They were all dressed up, and they
had all brought their lunches.

In one place, where the grass was green and the ground
level some big boys and girls were dancing. A left-handed

Bontemps--40

man was playing a fiddle; a right-handed man was pick-
ing a guitar. Another man played a banjo. Their music
they made was really quite fine, and the big boys and
girls danced for all they were worth. Some of them danced
so hard that the others who were not dancing had to fan
their feet to keep them cool.

In another level green spot the older folks were
playing a game called *Steal Miss Liza*. They had made
a circle, and they all clapped their hands and sang as
different ones skipped across the circle proudly and
picked out partners. Whenever one was left without a
partner, it became his turn to skip and steal the part-
ner of somebody else. They seemed to enjoy the game
very much. But what Frizzly Chick enjoyed most was the
singing.

Steal Miss Liza,
Lil Liza Jane,
Steal Miss Liza,
Lil Liza Jane.

That ol' man ain't got no wife,
Lil Liza Jane,
Couldn't have mine to save his life,
Lil Liza Jane.

Bontemps--41

The children were wading in the creek. By and by
the old man got down and helped his wife to the ground.
They left the lunch basket in the seat. Frizzly Chick
watched them walk over to the circle where the folks
were playing *Steal Miss Liza*, and then he hopped up on
the seat and pushed away the napkin and peeped into the
lunch basket.

Suddenly, when he saw all the good food, Frizzly
Chick began to feel hungry. There was a fine big cake
in the basket that looked powerfully good. And there
were sandwiches that appealed to him, too. There was
corn-on-the-cob and a pan of candied sweet potatoes and
some hearts of lettuce covered with a damp cloth.

Frizzly Chick hopped up on the side of the basket,
then hopped down on top of the big cake. That seemed
as good a place as any to start, so he began eating.
When he had put a good-sized hole in the cake, he turned
to the sweet potatoes. Then he tried the lettuce and
the sandwiches and the corn-on-the-cob. It was all so
good he just couldn't stop eating. In fact, he was still
eating when lunch time came and the old man and woman
came for their basket.

Frizzly Chick felt something shifting the basket.
He raised his head and looked out. There was the old
woman in the pumpkin-colored dress and the leaf-colored

Bontemps--42

hat. Frizzly Chick was terribly frightened. He cried
out in a loud cackling voice, flapped his wings and flew
over the woman's head. He landed in a tub of lemonade.

Then all the people became excited. They came running from every direction. Some had sticks and some had stones, and Frizzly Chick felt sure they intended to kill him. Perhaps he had done something wrong, he thought. Perhaps he should not have eaten so much lunch. Maybe it was wrong to fly into the tub of lemonade.

But he did not get a chance to think about it any
more. Strong hands caught him. He felt the fingers around
his neck. Then he heard the voice of the old black man
with the white wool on his head.

"Hold on, y'-all," the old man said. "I believe
that's my frizzly chick."

"'Deed it is," somebody said.

"Well, suh, now I'm powerfully sorry he done ruint
the lemonade like that and I'll buy y'-all some mo', but
you can't wring that chicken's neck. You see yo'self
he a frizzly chick."

So they did not hurt Frizzly Chick, but the old man
put him in a gunny sack, and when they got home he locked
Frizzly Chick in a coop so that he couldn't get on the
buggy and follow them to any more picnics.

Bontemps--43

## IX. FRIZZLY CHICK RUNS AWAY FROM HOME

The coop was small, and Frizzly Chick didn't like it at all. He began to feel blue and to think about running away from home. If I ever get out, he thought, I'll run away and never come back. I can't stand living in a coop like this.

Then one day he got his chance. The old man's wife left the gate open when she had fed him. Frizzly Chick saw it and made a dash. Out he went, across the yard, down the driveway and into the big road. The old woman

Bontemps--44

saw him go, but she did not run after him. She felt
sure he would come back when he got tired of running.

But Frizzly Chick didn't intend to come back. He
had made up his mind to run away from home.
big

"Maybe I'll go to the/city and make my fortune,"
he said as he walked. "Others have done it. I've list-
ened to the stories the Guinea-fowls tell, and I've heard
what the turkeys say. Things must be fine in the city.
I'll go to Nashville and make my fortune."

The geese were in the road whispering to each other.
"He likes to be by himself," one said softly.

Frizzly Chick walked on and on, looking at the things
he passed and talking to himself. With his magic power,
he was thinking, he could be very popular in a big city.
Maybe he would open an office and tell fortunes. People
would pay him and he would become rich. Or maybe it would
be better to sell charms that people could wear and get
good luck. Or maybe he would be an herb doctor and go
around from house to house and give children medicine
in a long spoon. Oh, there were so many things he could
do in a big city like Nashville.

And he would never come back to the country again.
Of course, it was too bad to leave the old black man
with the white wool on his head. He was such a kind old
man. And it would be lonesome never seeing the old friz-

Bontemps--45

zly hen, his mother, but Frizzly Chick wouldn't cry.
He was too big for that. He was nearly grown now, and
it was time he went to the city and made his fortune.
So on he walked, on and on.

After a while he began to feel hungry. The sun
reached the top of the sky, and still he was nowhere
near Nashville, and he wanted something to eat right
away. He passed a little country store, but he had no
money to buy with, so that was no help. He passed a good
many houses, but he didn't want to go to the doors and
knock like a begger. Finally he saw a big truck parked
on the side of the road, and when he looked again, he
saw that it was loaded with sacks of grain.

That appealed to Frizzly Chick and he hopped up on
the top of the load and pecked a hole in one of the sacks.
Then he put his head into the hole and began eating. How
good the grain tasted to a hungry fellow who had been
walking all morning! Frizzly Chick put his head deeper and deeper into the sack. Then, suddenly, he felt
something catch him by the wings and hold him tight.

"There, now, I caught you," a young man said. "I'm
going to take you to Nashville and sell you."

Frizzly Chick wanted to go to Nashville, of course,
but he did not want to be sold. He wanted to be a fort-
tune-teller or an herb doctor; he wanted to make himself

Bontemps--46

rich in the big city. Now here he was caught. He would
be sold, and maybe that would be the end of him. Friz-
zly Chick cried as loud as he could. The truck started
moving.

Soon Frizzly Chick saw that there were two men on
the truck. One was the driver. The other sat holding
the stray chicken in his hands. Then, when they reach-
ed the city, the one holding Frizzly Chick left the other
man and caught a street car.

In the middle of town there was a transfer station.
There the man had to change cars. There were many peo-
ple crowding into the place. All the cars of the city
came through the building, and the people waited there
for the ones they wanted to catch. The man with Frizzly
Chick waited.

After a time Frizzly Chick noticed that the man
was not holding him as tightly as he had held him before.
Frizzly Chick could move his wings and feet a little.
Maybe, he thought, maybe--then suddenly Frizzly Chick
gave a strong jerk. And sure enough, he got away. Ah,
that was what he wanted to do. That was it. He dashed
and ran and flew through the crowd. The man was right
behind him. All the people began laughing and scream-
ing with fun. It must have been a sight to see a frizzly
chicken running through the transfer station in the mid-
dle of town with a young black fellow running after him.

Bontemps--47

Frizzly Chick gave a leap and flew out of the place entirely and started down the street.

The man stayed just behind, running hard. Then when they got to a street crossing, Frizzly Chick dashed right across, flying out of the way of automobiles and street cars and wagons and trucks, but the red light was down, and the man had to wait till it turned green again. So Frizzly Chick got a long head-start, and when he turned the next corner, he did not see the man again. Still he did not stop running. Frizzly Chick had decided to get back home before somebody else caught him and tried to sell him.

He would have to give up his wish to make a fortune in the city. He would have to forget about selling fortunes for money and giving medicine to children or selling charms. The city was too dangerous for a poor frizly chick. He needed to be back in the country with the things that loved him, with the old black turkeys and ducks and the Guinea-fowls and the old black man with the white wool on his head. Frizzly Chick took a deep breath and ran some more.

Bontemps--48

X. HOME IS BEST

On and on Frizzly Chick ran, trying to get home be-
fore night. Soon he was tired. He came to a tennis
court, but he couldn't stop there. Balls were flying
so fast he was afraid he would be hit. On he went. He
came around a large building and saw that he was on the
campus of Fisk University. Now he would get a rest, he
thought.

Students were walking under the trees with books
in their arms. In one building the chorus was practicing,
making a lovely music. Across the street was the beaut-

Bontemps--49

iful library. Frizzly Chick waited till there were no automobiles passing then crossed and sat on the steps of that building. Ah, he thought, what a fine place to go to school. I wish I had an education. But I have something almost as wonderful; I have magic power.

The sun was getting low. It was cool on the library steps. Most of the students had gone across the campus to see a basket ball game in the gymnasium, so there were not many left to disturb Frizzly Chick, and he was getting a fine rest now. But soon a professor who wore glasses and who did not believe in frizzly chicks or witchcraft or magic or conjure, came out and looked at the tired chicken angrily.

"What are you doing here?" he shouted.

Frizzly Chick wanted to tell him the whole story, but he couldn't get the words out. He just stood up so that the professor could see that he was a *frizzly chick* and not an ordinary chick. But that only made the man more angry.

"*Frizzly* chick," he said scornfully. "You'd better get on back in the country where people love you."

So Frizzly Chick left the college and started running again. He began to think that colleges were not the place for him. Maybe it was because he was ignorant and had country ways. At any rate, he would get back to

Bontemps--50

his home as soon as he could. He ran and ran, and by
and by he was on a dirt country road that looked fam-
iliar. It was the same road he had come down earlier
in the day. But how different things were now. The sun
was sinking fast. He was tired and anxious to be home
with his friends. Just that morning he had thought he
would never come back to the country again. He had made
up his mind to earn his fortune in the city, to be an
herb doctor or a fortune-teller. Now everything was
different. Now he wanted nothing so much as to be
home again with his friends.

When you get to a big city, he thought, it does not
seem the same as when you are at home thinking about it.
Unless you have friends in a big city, you feel lost.
It's best not to go unless you know somebody. I'm
<u>never</u> going back, never.

Suddenly he looked up, and there was the house he
had been
knew. There was the barn where he/was born. There was
the kind old black man with the white wool on his head.
There were the turkeys and ducks and geese and chickens
and Guinea-fowls scrambling for their supper in the barn-
yard while the old man scattered grain on the ground for
them.

Frizzly Chick was nearly out of breath, but he ran
harder than ever and got to the barnyard just in time

Bontemps--51

to get his share of corn. Oh, I'm so glad to be back,
he thought. And just in time, too.

The other chickens were all so busy eating they did
not notice him till all the food was gone. Then the speckled
hen came over and said, "I haven't seen you all day,
Frizzly Chick."

Frizzly Chick dropped his wings so low they touched
the ground.

"No," he said in a very tired voice. "No, I've
been away all day."

The old black man seemed to be looking for him at
the same time.

"There you is," he said laughing. "Well, bless me,
I didn't know what had come of you. I reckon you don't
like to stay in a coop all day, though. I don't blame
you neither. I ain't going to put you back in it no mo'."

Then he went up to the house and sat beside his wife
on the back steps. The sun dropped behind a hill, leav-
ing the sky filled with lovely colors, with rose and gold
and orchid.

Some of the other chickens had heard Frizzly Chick
tell the speckled hen that he had been away, so they all
began crowding near to hear his story.

"Tell us, Frizzly Chick. Tell us where you've
been. What did you see?"

Bontemps--52

"I've been to Nashville," he said proudly. "I've had a great adventure."

The crowd got bigger. Soon everything in the barnyard was crowding around to hear the story. And Frizzly Chick told them all how he had set out to make his fortune, how he had been stolen, how he had escaped in the transfer station, how the red light had saved him from being caught again, how he had visited Fisk University and finally how he had reached home just in time for his supper.

"Well, why did you do it, silly young one," his mother said.

Then Frizzly Chick told them all how he had planned to get rich by becoming an herb doctor or a fortune-teller. There was no denying he had the talent.

"Well, I don't see why you can't tell our fortunes here," the old speckled hen said. "All my young ones have gone to roost early because they are sick with an ailment, and I don't see why you don't cure them if you want to be a doctor."

"I say as much," Frizzly Chick's mother said.

"I'm very tired now," Frizzly Chick said. "Tomorrow I'll make medicine for all the sick. I'll tell everybody's fortune."

"All right, but don't you forget," the old speckled

Bontemps--55

kettle and take a big-big drink, all he could hold.

They all obeyed.

"Come out in the sun now," Frizzly Chick said.

"After a while you will go back and drink some more of my medicine, but now I'm going to tell your fortunes. You know I have magic power."

"Tell mine first," said the old speckled hen.

"Well, next year you'll be a grandmother," Frizzly Chick said. "You'll have a hundred grandchildren."

"Now tell mine," said a Guinea-fowl.

"You will wear glasses and have a long beard," said Frizzly Chick. "You will make speaches on a box in the park. You will try to get the men to strike for higher wages. The police will break up your meetings and run you out of the park with their sticks. You will get hurt in the confusion and have to walk on crutches a month."

"Oh, woe-woe," cried the Guinea-fowl.

"Tell mine," said a duck.

"You will take a long journey down the creek. You will come to the river and see marvelous boats. You will get lost and an old woman fishing in the river will find you and give you a new home. She will be good to you."

"Please tell mine," said the old turkey gobbler.

"You will go to the state fair," said Frizzly Chick.

Bontemps--56

"You will see the merry-go-round and the Ferris wheel and the horse races. You will throw balls at the black boys in the cages and hit them every time so that they will fall splashing into the water. You will win the blue ribbon for being the best turkey at the fair, and they will dress you up wonderfully and give you so many hot-dogs to eat you will get a stomach ache."

"I wish I had one or two now," said the turkey.

"Now," Frizzly Chick said, "all you sick chicks run back to the kettle and drink some more medicine. Take a big-big drink--understand?"

They all ran to the kettle for their medicine and hurried back to hear some more fortunes. Everyone was pushing and crowding now.

"It's my turn now," said one of the sick chicks.

"All right," said Frizzly Chick. "You will be a poor farmer, and your wife and children will help you pick cotton. Your well will run dry and you will have to haul water in barrels on a wagon. When Thanksgiving comes, your rich uncle will come to see you. He will land his plane in your field, and you will all have a fine dinner."

"Oh, tell mine," said a pigeon.

"You will go to a Halloween party. Your costume will be like a king's fobe. You will dance till morn-

Bontemps--57

ing. A bullfrog in a frocktailed coat will call the
figures and an owl will play the fiddle."

"Tell mine," said a pig.

"No," said Frizzly Chick. "It's time the sick chickens took their medicine again. That will be all the fortunes today."

So the chickens took their medicine faithfully every
hour all that day, and all of them got well, and all the
fortunes came true.

Bontemps--54

"Where you going with a chicken and a handbag like
that, little sister."

"I'm going to see my Aunt Beck," Lulu said.

"Your Aunt Beck what lives on this here street?"

"Yes," Lulu said, nodding. "I thought she'd like to
see my Frizzly Chick."

"How'd you like to give me that Frizzly Chick? I'd take
mighty good care of him, feed him good, keep him in a warm
house with these others, learn him a heap of tricks and make
you proud of him."

Lulu thought a minute.

"That sounds mighty fine, but I couldn't just give
Frizzly Chick away that-a-way."

"Suppose I gives you some money for him."

"But Frizzly Chick ain't no common chicken, though. He
is got power to keep away sickness and all like of that.
Don't you know how wonderful frizzly chickens is?"

"Hush, little sister. Don't tell me a thing about
Frizzly Chickens. Ain't I been hunting the country over to
find one. That's just why I want this one for my little show.
Come on, little sis', sell him to me."

"I'll ask my Aunt Beck," Lulu decided.

"Fine. I'll go with you."

The crowd of people broke up. The old man put one of
his hens on each shoulder and let the rooster sit in the hoop
as they walked. Lulu carried Frizzly Chick in her arm.

Bontemps--55

Lulu's Aunt Beck came out and met them at the door.

"Well, peoples, will you look a-here," she cried, seeing the old man and all the chickens with Lulu. "What all this mean, honey child?"

Lulu took a moment to tell Aunt Beck how she had brought her pet to town in the buss and how they had seen the old man on the street corner after they got off the car. Then she told her how the old man had offered to buy Frizzly Chick.

"Must I sell, Frizzly Chick, Aunt Beck?" she asked finally.

That was a hard question for the woman to answer. She knew the value of Frizzly Chick, she said, but she wasn't just sure.

"Listen here," the old man insisted. "I'll give you enough to buy five chickens. I done set my head on that there Frizzly Chick. I just must have him."

"Well, maybe you best sell him, Lulu," her aunt said. "I know this old man. He'll take better care of Frizzly Chick than you can take yourself. Besides, he'll teach him tricks, and you can come and see the stunts every now and then."

Lulu was sure that this would be the best thing for her chicken. She could see that Frizzly Chick loved the city, and she could see that he had taken a liking to the funny old man with the ragged coat and the bare feet.

"Well, good-by, Frizzly Chick," she said finally. "I'll be coming to see you every now and then. Be smart and learn

Bontemps--56

a heap of tricks."

The old man grinned, taking his new friend in his arm
very gently and very proudly.

"This here chick is going to live on the fat of the land
from now on. He going to be in good company, too. I been
had these other chickens more than ten years. You know I
ain't never going to part with Frizzly Chick."

Frizzly Chick was sorry to leave Little Lulu. She had
been kind to him, but he was glad to join the old man. He
was sure the old fellow had a good understanding of the ways
of chickens and knew how to make them happy.

Frizzly Chick's heart fluttered like a leaf as they went
down the street in the sunshine. He knew that in a day or
two he would be on the sidewalks of Baltimore doing tricks
for the old man, swing on the rope, jumping through the hoop,
doing the big apple, keeping time to the music like the other
trained chickens. And best of all, he would never leave the
city.