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The Golden Bird

The Golden Bird

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Chapter 1 No.1

Word Count: 4449    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

and quick. That is, I thought I needed a lot and in a very great hurry; but if I had known what I know now, I might have been contented feedi

e spirit of a desperate adventure I embarked upon the quest of the Golden Bird

se inoffensive articles of banquet diet with a sharp silver fork while he squared himself with equal determination between me and any possible partner for the deli

ew Berry, with your lack of sympathy with the great American wealth producer, the humble female chicken known in farmer patois as a hen. Did you know that it only costs about two dollars and thirteen cents to feed a

f perfectly good and untasted food, and buried his head in his han

n again with a two-horse wagon, and the carriage to move us out to Elmnest to-morrow morning. Judge Rutherford will attend to selling all the property and settle with father's creditors. Another wagon is coming

me move you and Father Craddock over into that infernal, empty old

utiful existence for those two dear old boys. When Uncle Cradd heard of the smash from that horrible phosphate deal he was at the door the next morning at sun-up, driving the two gray mules to

y in town. Get your dimity together, Nancy! Your grandmother Craddock's haircloth trunk is strapped on behind her carriage there, and Rufus will drive you home. These mules are too skittish for him to handle. Fine pair, eh, William?' And right there in the early dawn, almost in front of the garage that contained his touring Chauvinnais and my gray roadster, father stood in his velvet dressing-gown and admired the two moth-eaten old animals. Now, I honestly ask you, Matthew,

raining. Now what do you say-wedding to-morrow?" And the light in dear old Matthew's eyes was very lovely indeed as the music grew less blatant and the waiter turned down the lights near the

of a roof and food," I answered him, with all of the affection I seemed t

r did you not tell me just to wait until you got grown? Have you or have you not reached the years of discretion and decision? I am ready to marry,

s I, as I before remarked, at that time possessed. "Don't wait for me. Mar

the floor of the ball-room, and landed Matthew in his big racing-car

heart remains very soft-fibered and uncertain, with tendencies to lapse into second childhood. I am

had not yet even spoken. The family consisted of ten perfectly beautiful white Leghorn feminine darlings whose crate was marked, "Thoroughbreds from Prairie Dog Farm, Boulder, Colorado." I had obtained the money to purchase these very much alive foundations for my fortune, also the smart farmer's costume, or rather my idea of the correct thing in rustics, by selling all the lovely lingerie I had brought from Paris with me just the week before the terrible war had crashed down upon the world, and which I had not worn because I had not needed them, to Bess Rutherford and Belle Proctor at very high prices, because who could tell whether France would ever procure their like again? They were composed mostly of incrustations of embroidery and real Val, and anyway the Golden Bird only cost seven hundred dollars instead of the thousand, and the ladies Bird only ten dollars apiece, which to me did not seem exactly fair, as they were of just as good family as he. I was very proud of myself for having been professional enough to follow the directions of my new big red book on "The Industrious Fowl," and to buy Golden Bird and his family from localities which were separated as far as is the East from the West. My company was responsible for my light-heartedness at a time when I should have been weeping with vain regrets at leaving life-and perhaps love, for I c

their winter nakedness. As we rode slowly along, with a leisure I am sure all the motor-car world has forgotten exists, the two old boys on the front seat hummed and chuckled happily while I breathed in great gulps of a large, meadow-sweet spring tang that seemed to fairly soak into the circulation of my heart. The February day was cool with yet a kind of tender warmth in its little gust of Southern wind that made me feel as does that brand of very expensive Rhine wine which Albert at the Salem

aned back upon the soft old cushions and took in the first leisurely breath of the air of the open road that

he heavy old springs, Uncle Cradd brought the ancestral family coach to a halt about ten feet away from the wreck, which was a mêlée of broken timber, squeaking voices, and flapping wings. As soon as I recovered from the shock I sprang from my cushions beside Mr. G. Bird, who was fairly yelling clucks of command at this family-to-be, and ran to their assistance. Now, I am very long and fleet of limb, but those white Leghorn ladies were too swift for me, and before I reached the wreck, they had all ten dis

l back, Mr. Golde

e for twenty years. We'll just turn this rooster loose with them and we can go on home in peace," said Uncle Cradd as he peered around the side of the coach while father's mild

ls through which that proud Mr. G. Bird and I went hand in hand, or rather wing in hand, in which I was at times hard and cold and disappointed in him, I have never forgotten that he turned in his tracks and walked majestically back to my side and peered into the outstretched hand with a trustful and inquiring peck. Some kind fortune had brought it to pass that I held the package of tea biscuits in my other hand, and in a few breathless secon

imated discussion of Plato's Republic going on between the two old gentlemen who had thirty years' arrears in argument and conversation to make up. I could see

" came a soft, deep voice out of the forest b

's name

Golden Bird until I saw that he had reached down and was stroking Mr. G. Bird with a delighted hand. "Chick, chick, chick!" he commanded, with a note that was not at all unlike the commanding one the Sultan had used a few minutes past, only more so, and in

hed red that I had seen upon the back of a prize Rhode Island Red in the lovely water-color plates in my chicken book,-which had tempted me to buy "red" until I had read about the triumphs of the Leghorn "whites,"-waved close to his head, only ruffling just over his ears enough to hide the tips of them. His eyes were set so far back under their dark, heavy, red eyebrows that they seemed night-blue with their long black fringe of lashes. His face was square and strong and gentle, and the collar of his gray flannel shirt was open so that I could see that his head was set

o suit his actions to his words with amazing tact and skill. I shall always be glad that the first chicken I ever held in my arms was put into them gently by that woods man, and that it was the Golden Bird himself. "Put him in and shut

most wonderful man I ever saw-I mean that I ever saw with chickens," I said, ending the remark in an agony o

ens-or men," he said kindly, without a spark in his

reast, for while we had been holding our primitive conversation, I had been obeying his directions and loadin

anagement.' I never saw a finer lot," he said, as he walked to the door of

agement," I faltered, with my anx

riage in such a way as to leave room for my feet among them. Mr. G. Bird was perched on the seat at my side and was craning his neck down and soothingly scolding his family. "How a

ncle Cradd, as he turned around and greeted

name was Adam, but I

at young lady is Nancy. Those chickens are just a whim of hers, and we have to humor her. Can we lift you

our assistance in capturing my daughter's whims," s

at man had the impertinence to laugh into my eyes at my parent's

Plunkett's, and I want to make sure those Southdown ewes are all right," he answered as he put my hand out of

mother must speak to a child as she unloosens clinging dependent fingers. As he spoke he shut the door of

Golden darling into the hollow of my arm. Some day I am going to travel to the East shore of Baltimore to the Rosecomb Poultry Farm to see the woman who raised the Golden Bird and cultivated su

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