I don’t think this fight would have happened if the mother hen had been about, but through some mistake she had been shut up for an hour with some other hens who were not mothers. It was Joan again who came to see what was the matter. She was just too late to save poor Fluffy, and was heart-broken when she saw him lying on the ground so limp and still just as if he were dead. “Oh, you wicked chickens!” she cried, “what have you done to poor Fluffy?” Cheeky cocked his little head on one side as if he knew nothing at all about it, and the other chickens wandered off as if their brother who had got the worst of the fight was no business of theirs.
“What horrid, cold-blooded little things,” thought Joan, “how could they be so unkind?” But it is no good giving chickens credit for tender hearts and clever brains, for if you do you will be disappointed. And it will not be the chickens’ fault, for they can’t help it. Joan found this out after a time and she loved them for what they were and didn’t expect too much.
Very gently Joan picked Fluffy up and was glad to feel he was still warm. She carried him carefully to the kitchen where cook gave her a cosy little basket with a piece of flannel. She laid him on this and put him near the kitchen fire. Her aunt looked grave when she saw his limp little body, for she thought he was dead, but she let Joan do as she liked.
Poor Fluffy lay still so long that Joan grew tired of watching him and went off to see the cows milked. When she came in to tea she rushed first of all into the kitchen to see if he had moved. He certainly looked better, less limp and even a little fatter, and actually his eyes were open. Joan was delighted, and while she was looking at him he opened his beak and gave a kind of gape. “Oh, auntie!” Joan called out, “Fluffy’s alive, and I believe he wants something to eat.” Wasn’t it splendid? The warmth of the kitchen fire had revived him. After Joan had fed him with a little warm food he was able to get up and walk about. She liked having him to herself like that, but when bedtime came and the other chicks went under their mother’s wing she took him back and he ran in and settled down. I expect he made up his mind it would be a long time before he would have another fight.