CHAPTER V
THE POULTRY GO ON STRIKE
The five girls of Green Hill walked along the country road a ways with the girls from the village, and then returned to the farm. As they turned in at the gate opening to the side-path leading to the porch, they distinctly heard the pigs squealing as if they were being tortured. They found Rachel in a piazza rocker, swaying back and forth furiously while she strained her eyes in the semi-darkness for a sight of the delinquent stock-scout. The moment she heard the group of girls as they approached the house, she shouted angrily:
“Is dat Janet wid you-all?”
Being assured that Janet was one of the party, Rachel continued: “How kin you go off sky-larkin’ likes-how-you-do, Janet, aknowin’ dem pigs is starvin’? I tells you it is such cruelty to anermals as I never seed!”
“I’m awfully sorry, Rachel, but I had intended going to feed them when Jimmy said she thought it would please our visitors if we accompanied them a short distance along the road,” said Janet, apologetically.
Rachel dared not criticise Mrs. James’s motives or advise, so she jumped up from the rocker and snapped shortly: “Come and fetch dis mush out to dem at onct!”
“I wish one of you girls would come with me and hold the light,” ventured Janet, looking around at the faces in the semi-darkness.
“I’ll go with you, if you like, Jan,” offered Norma when no one else seemed over-anxious to take advantage of the invitation.
As Janet went to the kitchen to get the pan of corn-meal, Rachel added shortly: “Feed dem good ef you expecks us to git any sleep tonight!”
The girls sitting on the steps of the porch knew to a certainty the moment the pigs got their supper, for the tumult ceased suddenly. It was silent evidence that they were busy with the tardy supper.
Early in the morning, Rachel roused the household by shouting wildly: “Dem fowl’s got out and are in Natalie’s wegetables! Da’s whad comes f’om not feedin’ ’em supper afore bedtime!”
So Janet wearily ran out and raced about, first shooing away one hungry hen and then another, but finally calling on all her friends to help round them up and drive them back to the coop.
“I never knew anything to be more misappropriately named—Plymouth Rocks. The way those horny birds can skip around beats everything!” declared Janet, as she collapsed on the kitchen steps and wiped her streaming face.
“You’ve just got to keep them locked up until that new wire fence is finished, Janet,” commanded Natalie, angrily. “I’m not running a truck-farm for your stock to eat up.”
“Poor Nat! She has done nothing since the barnyard pets came, but replant vegetables twice a day,” laughed Belle.
After breakfast Janet said she would go to Four Corners and bring back the wire so that no time need be lost in immediately starting the fence.
“I’ll go with you, Jan, and help carry it back,” offered Belle.
“So’ll I, Janet,” added Frances.
Norma had too much to do in planting flowers, to think of accompanying her friends, and Natalie was too angry to offer to assist in any way in curbing the chickens’ escapades. So the three girls started for the store, leaving the poultry locked securely in the hen-house until such times as the runway was safely inclosed.
But they had not been gone very long, before Frances’s father and mother drove up in the automobile. It was Norma who suggested that Mr. Lowden play the Good Samaratin and go for the girls, to help them bring back the roll of wire-netting. So the girls and their wire were soon back again at Green Hill, as I told you fully, in the first book.
Then the main object of the Lowdens’ visit was explained, and the rejoicing of the girls was vociferous and deafening. When high spirits had been calmed somewhat by Mr. Lowden’s warnings he left the car for them to use that summer.
Frances said: “I think it is a strange coincidence that only last night I should write Daddy a letter and asked him this very great favor. All the time he and Mother were planning it.”
After the Lowdens had gone, Janet said she must begin work on the chicken-fence. Mrs. James offered to go with her and help, and Belle said she might as well go, too. Frances had driven her parents to the station, so she was not there to be drafted into service for Janet.
Janet unrolled the entire length of wire upon the ground and then stood studying it, as if for inspiration of how to handle it. Mrs. James watched her, and finally remarked:
“Why did you get it so wide, Janet? It’s five feet, at least, and you really do not need it any wider than three feet.”
“I was afraid the chickens would fly over if it was only three feet high,” explained Janet.
“Well you’ve got it now, so let’s get busy and put it up,” was Belle’s sensible advice.
“You go over to the other end of the wire, Belle, and stand on it to keep it from flying back as it does every time I move it,” suggested Janet, because the netting rolled itself up just when it was not expected to.
Mrs. James supplied herself with a mouthful of nails, and a few extra ones in her hand that held the hammer, then went to the first post in the row. She turned to tell Janet what to do but the nails in her mouth kept her from being understood so she had to remove them before she could speak intelligibly.
“I said for you to drag the wire over to me so I could nail one end to this post,” she repeated.
Janet did as she was told, but Belle had stepped from the other end of the wire to get the box so that Mrs. James might put the nails back in the box instead of back in her mouth. Consequently, the moment Janet began to lift the end of the wire the rest of it rebounded like a live thing. It coiled so unexpectedly and suddenly that the opposite end flew up, the ragged ends of the wire scratching Janet’s face and then catching in her fluffy hair.
“Ouch! Someone come and get this out of my hair, please!” cried the girl, tears in her eyes.
“Hold perfectly still, for a moment!” called Belle, running over to her assistance.
“Ooh—oo—uch! That hurts, Belle!” cried Janet, as the wires tugged at her hair unmercifully when Belle tried to untangle them. Then she had to call upon Mrs. James to help.
Frances had returned and, from Rachel, heard that the three had gone to the barn to build a chicken run, so she joined them there. She was just in time to hear Janet wail pitifully, and see the free end of the wire twist and writhe. This, of course, made the other end pull the harder on Janet’s hair.
“Wait! I’ll stand on this end so it can’t move. Then you can work better,” called Frances, jumping upon the wire as she spoke.
When the hair was freed at last from the hold of the wire ends, Mrs. James advised Frances to remain standing where she was to hold down the netting where it belonged.
“I’ll hold it with my hands and when you want to drag it over to the post, just call to me and I will crawl over with it, while holding it to keep it from jumping again,” said Frances.
As this was considered a very clever plan, it was approved and Mrs. James again took hold of the wire to nail it fast to a post.
“There now, Janet, while Belle holds it right in this position, you can nail it down all along the edge. Drive the nails about six inches apart, from the top of the post to the bottom,” said Mrs. James, handing the tools to Janet.
“Where are you going?” wondered the stock-farmer.
“I’m going back to the house to get a large pair of shears. We will need them to cut off the ragged ends of wire when we reach the side of the chicken-house.”
When Mrs. James had gone, Janet said: “Let’s see if we can have all the wire up before she gets back. It looks awfully easy to nail.”
They were so engrossed in nailing the wire, beginning at the top of the post and fastening it down the outside of the post, that neither of them realized the mistake they were making. Having nailed it securely for halfway the length of the post, Janet found the netting resist her efforts to fit in closely. She stood back to seek an explanation for this and cried, “Oh!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Belle, seeing her angry face.
“I never thought to measure the old post. Neither did Jimmy. Our wire is five feet wide and that post can’t be more than three and a half feet high. Now just look at that wire!”
They looked, but that did no good at this late moment. The extra one and a half feet of wire overlapped on the ground and was of no use there. It kept the wire from fitting snugly to the post, that was all.
“We’ve got to pull the nails out again, Janet, and begin to nail the wire down to the post, starting from the bottom up,” suggested Belle, eyeing the problem judiciously.
“And I hit those nails so hard—just to make them stay put!” sighed Janet.
“Don’t let’s waste words over what was done wrong, but let’s find a way to get the nails out again,” advised Frances, wisely.
“What can I use to pull them with?” asked Belle.
“That’s a claw-hammer. Use the claw on the other end of the handle,” said Janet.
So Belle managed to worm a way under each nail and get the claw underneath so it gripped the head of the nail, and then she bent the handle backward until the nail came out. After many mishaps, all the nails were out but they were so misshapen that they had to be flung away as useless. Then the two girls fitted the wire at the bottom of the post close to the ground, and began to nail down the wire, working upwards to the top of the post.
“It looks queer, sticking a foot and a half above the post, doesn’t it?” said Belle.
“I don’t care about looks. It is on right, this time, and that is the principle thing,” retorted Janet.
“Maybe the wire will prove to be so resistant that it will stand up above the posts, all right, when we get it all fastened to the places,” suggested Frances.
After this, the girls fitted the wire from post to post finding it a very difficult matter to lift and hold the twisty netting in place while it was being nailed flat to the posts. They had secured it to four posts on one side of the run and were trying to make it bend about the corner post so it could be nailed down and fitted across the end of the run-way too, when Mrs. James was seen coming back.
She stopped in dismay when she came near enough to see what was being done. The workers saw her expression and went over to her side to view the work from her vantage point.
“The wire runs uphill, girls. It fits, all right, at the first post, but from there on it gets higher and higher, from the ground, until it is a good fifteen inches above the ground at that corner post. Every chicken you have can walk under the gap, with its head erect. They wouldn’t have to stoop to crawl under,” laughed Mrs. James.
“Now how did that happen?” demanded Janet, ready to cry.
“We were most particular, Jimmy, about fitting it,” added Belle, frowning at the problem.
“Well, it can’t remain that way, you’ll agree with me,” commented Mrs. James.
“No, it’s all got to come down again,” sighed Frances.
“Here, Frans! You told us how to do it, and now you take this claw-hammer and work those nails out again. This time I’ll stand on the end of the wire and do the bossing,” said Belle.
Frances thought it was awfully funny, so she laughingly tried the claw-hammer to get out the nails. Several times the claw slipped and her hands were scratched, and once the hammer went right through the wire and she came, suddenly, with her face flat up against the wire. That was not so funny even though the other two girls laughed heartily at her.
When all the wire was laid flat upon the ground once more, it was found that the end that had been nailed to the first post was cut decidedly on the bias, and that accounted for the rest of the wire being fitted on a gradual incline as they ran it along the fence-line.
Before they could help Mrs. James cut the bias end to become a square end, Rachel came down the lane in order to see the finish of the fencing job.
“Well sakes! Ain’t you even begun yit?” was her comment.
“Certainly! We began twice, and this will be the third time,” retorted Janet.
“Whad’s the matter? Yoh ain’t got nuttin’ to show fer the work,” was Rachel’s reply.
“That’s because we are figuring on posts. The wire is five feet wide and the posts only three and a half. Perhaps we will have to get Ames to set up new posts, after all,” explained Janet, but she would not say a word to Rachel about the poor judgment she and her helpers had shown in running the fence skyward.
“I kin fix dat trouble in no time, honey,” declared Rachel, taking a look at the posts and then going to the barn.
When she reappeared she was carrying an armful of thick slats which she had found in the harness-room on the floor. She joined the waiting carpenters and threw the load upon the ground.
“I don’no what dese is foh, but dey is jus’ what you wants fer to lift dem postes up higher. Now give me dat hammeh.”
Rachel’s powerful arms soon had the slats nailed securely to the top of the posts so that they were extended two feet higher than they were before. The extensions were quite firm, too, so the girls again started to attach the wire to the first post.
“Say! You ain’t goin’ to bother wid all that wire while you air tackin’ on one piece, is you?” demanded Rachel.
“You don’t expect us to cut it in small lengths, do you?” asked Janet.
“Sure not, but do it dis way. Why use a hull length of wire at one time when you kin only work on one piece at a time? Now you rolls it up like dis”—Rachel demonstrated her words—“and stan’s it propeh like agin a post.”
Rachel stood the roll of wire upright against the post and nailed the end close to the post. Then she began unrolling the wire along the ground, while it was still in its upright position, but she stopped short, about midway between the two posts.
“Laws-a-massy-me! You gals ain’t got no grain of sense! Does yoh expeck dem fowl to sit in dat runway and not dig a way out unner dis wire? Dey’ll do dat fust chanst!”
“Is there anything we ought to do?” queried Janet, wishing all poultry in Timbuctoo.
“Suah! Run to the heap of ole lumbeh back ob dat barn and fetch me half a dozen bo’ads. All of you gals go foh ’em.”
In a short time the girls came back, each dragging a board under their arms. These were examined by Rachel and approved of. Then she took the first one which was about ten inches wide and nailed it inside the posts, so that it ran along the ground much like a base-molding is placed in a room where floor and side-wall meet.
“Now, you see, we kin nail dat wire fas’ to dis bo’ard and no hen kin scratch a way out t’roo a plank like dis is.”
Rachel remained to help them with the tiresome task, and when it was completed, it looked pretty good to the builders.
“I never dreamed that a little thing like a strip of wire was so hard to manage while turning it into a fence,” sighed Janet.
“It’s like mos’ t’ings, Janet—easy when you knows how to do ’em,” chuckled Rachel. “Now shove dat box away f’om the do’h of the coop so dem fowl kin run out in the mawnin’.”
“Why not tonight?” asked Belle.
“Oh, they’ve gone to roost before this,” said Janet. “They have been roosting all day, more or less, because they were in a dark house.”
Mrs. James picked up the hammer, and Rachel took the box of nails, and the two went back to the house, followed slowly by Belle and Frances who were talking over the recent carpenter work. Janet begged Norma to help her feed the pigs that night so she could finish before darkness fell.
“I won’t take the time to go to the kitchen and cook them a pot of mush tonight,” said Janet, as she led the way to the pig-pen. “But I’ll give them an extra measure of shorts and corn, for this once.”
The grain had been delivered the day before but Janet had not given the pigs more than a taste of it. Tonight, however, she supplied them liberally with corn and other grain until they actually ate slowly towards the last.
At supper, that night, which was very late because of the carpenter work, Norma spoke of the dry sandy quality of the flower-beds. “Mrs. Tompkins told me to examine the soil and if it was too dry to be sure and mix a good rich compost with the dry and lumpy dirt.”
“If you find the soil is too sandy, Norma, what did you plan to do about securing the compost?” asked Mrs. James.
“I was wondering if Natalie had any left from the cart-load Farmer Ames delivered here for the gardens,” replied Norma.
“No, we used every bit we had for the small vegetables,” explained Mrs. James. “But Natalie could use some more, to the best advantage, on the corn-field and the new garden she proposes to have Ames plough. So you two girls might share the costs for a load from Ames’ farm.”
“Why doesn’t Norma use leaf-mold, Jimmy? You said yourself that there was nothing like it. She can hire all the scouts to dig and carry it in baskets from the woods,” suggested Natalie.
“Mrs. Tompkins said that a good barnyard compost well mixed with the dry soil, was best of all manures for the flowers. But it must be thoroughly mixed. Then, she said, a fine leaf-mold was excellent for top-dressing. So I think I will listen to Mrs. Tompkins who has such wonderful results with her plants,” replied Norma.
“Yes, Norma is quite right to abide by the rule Mrs. Tompkins uses. No one in or near Four Corners has such flowers,” said Mrs. James.
“Well, then, Norma and I can order a load from Ames when we see him again,” said Natalie.
“We’ll see him drive past on his way to the store,” was Janet’s suggestion.
“If he doesn’t go past, I will leave an order at Four Corners for him to deliver the compost as soon as possible, shall I?” asked Frances.
“Yes, do, Frans, please!” exclaimed both girls in one voice.
“Write it on a card and then Tompkins can put it in his letter-box,” suggested Mrs. James.