Mrs Hen and her Chicks.

Southland Times, Issue 22188, 2 December 1933, Page 18

Mrs Hen and her Chicks.

—First Prize— Throaty clucks and shriller trebles, Comes the mother, full of pride; Thirteen, tiny, yellow chickens, Running, chirping at her side. Long the tiny lives she fostered, Neath her cosy wings and breast, Never resting, anxious, patient, In the dark and lonely nest. How her heart was all athrobbing, How her blood raced hot and quick, When beneath her tender feathers Moved a weak, bedraggled chick. See the tiny yellow morsels Cluster, chirping at her call; Snuggling in the cosy feathers, Each a fluffy, wattle ball. See the plumage proudly swelling, See the beady eyes that shine; I can almost hear her saying: “Ne’er before were chicks like mine.” —3/- and 4 marks to Cousin Chrissie Ross (14), Maia, Dunedin. —Second Prize— I'll tell a little story, as I take my pad and pen, About a little pet I have—it’s fussy Mrs Hen. From early dawn till evening, she is full of funny tricks, As strutting proudly up and down she tends her dozen chicks. She scratches and she cackles, with her babies at her side, With every little grub and worm she nearly bursts with pride— She gets in such excitement as she calls her children round, Then makes them scramble for it, as she drops it on the ground. If danger seems to threaten from a weasel or a hawk, She soon attracts attention with a very angry squawk, And twelve such lively chickens for protection quickly fly Beneath the wings of mother, till the danger passes by. There, for a while they linger, as she softly to them sings, While sometimes little heads peep out from underneath her wings, And one or two have practised till they have the happy knack Of perching very proudly right on top of mother's back. But when the shadows gather, is the time I like them best, In such a happy way these chicks, then settle down to rest, As one by one they gather at their mother’s crooning call All in amongst her feathers till they can’t be seen at all. -2/- and 4 marks to Cousin Connie Jellyman (14), Queen street, Otautau.

—Highly Commended— A happy little family, so full of funny tricks, Are Mrs Hen the mother, and ten bright little chicks. All day they scratch and scramble, For grubs amongst the grass And Mrs Hen gets angry if any peo- • pie pass. She fusses, and she worries if one chick strays away She thinks they are in danger, unless they with her stay. While if she sees the shadow of wings up overhead, If looks and squawks could kill that bird he’d very soon be dead! I’m much afraid that later the mother of those ten Will have a little trouble to keep them in their pen. For chickens are like children when they’re a little grown All seems to want to wander, and search upon their own. —2 marks to Cousin Margaret Jellyman (13), Queen street, Otautau. —Highly Commended— Mrs Hen had fat chicks three, Who, discontented as could be Decided, then, the world to see. The eldest went off to the west, To make a fortune was his quest To bring back home a golden nest. The second went off to the town He meant to win himself renown To give mama a silken gown. The third he went to seek for gold He meant to be a pirate bold, Like one about which he’d been told. All three little chicks came creeping back Worn weary, weeping, black Pity—Mother did not lack. Strutting proudly round, the farm Sunning chicks in the air so calm Mrs Hen keeps them from harm. 1 —2 marks to Cousin Enid Cockerel (13), 4 Filluel street.

—Highly Commended— Spring fragrance fills the clear pure air As I go out each morn, To feed the mother hen and chicks With oatmeal and with corn. ’Tis just a week sinca they have come The little fluffy things And if we touch them mother hen Fluffs out her feathered wings. Some are black and some are yellow Some are a pretty grey And every day good Mrs Hen Counts hex - chicks as they play. I hate to think that they will grow, Just as the others do Although they will be of some use And give us nice eggs too. —2 marks to Cousin Ruby Beggs (13) Otautau —Blackmount R.D. —Commended— In a cosy coop in a farm-yard near There’s a little family quite happy enough. A mother hen and hex - chickens dear Twelve little balls of fluff! Yellow chick, grey chick, and black chick too, There you’ll see them peeping at you, While Mrs Hen gives an anxious peck Twelve little balls of fluff! Curious, daring they peep from hex’ side “Cluck,” says she, “that’s where you’ll bide Then she will sit and watch all day, Twelve little balls of fluff! Tn the morning bright and clear They scramble after tit-bits dear, Pull and tug at a luckless worm— Those twelve little balls of fluff! —1 mark to Cousin Evelyn Cameron (13) 13 Bann street, Bluff. —Commended— The good old speckled clucking hen, Attends hex - chicks with mother’s pride, If danger is heard within the pen She spreads her wings where they quickly hide. —1 mark to Cousin Annie Lawrie (14) Glencoe R.D.