I suppose that we don't really know what comfort
is here."
When the Gobbler asked them about the Guinea Fowls, and how they were
enjoying their new home, the Hen Turkeys sighed and answered, "Oh, as
well as they can enjoy this farm, we suppose." The Gobbler was a little
surprised by this reply, but he said nothing, and as he pecked at the
corn which had just been spilled from the load the Oxen were drawing, he
thought, "I wish we could have better corn to eat. This does not taste
quite as it should."
When the Geese met the Guinea Fowls, they began to speak of the pleasure
of living on such a fine farm. "Ah," said the Guinea Hen with the
bright-colored legs, "how I wish you might see the one we left when we
came here. It was so different."
The other Guinea Fowls looked uncomfortable when she spoke in this way,
and stood first on one foot and then on the other. Then the Cock said
something about the sunshiny fall weather, and the good neighbors,
and--and----
The Gander spoke again of the farm. "It is not all that we could wish,"
said he; "still there are some good things about it. There are several
swimming places which are fine and cold in winter."
"If it were only better cared for," said the Gray Goose. "I had a
dreadful time a while ago, when I tried to get through a hole in the
fence. I don't remember what was the matter with the hole, and perhaps I
never knew, but the farmer should have such things fixed. My neck was
lame for days afterward, and he was wholly to blame."
After this, the Geese found fault with almost everything, and when there
was no one thing to grumble about, they sighed because, "It was so
different from what it might be." It was not long before even the spring
Chickens, the Goslings, and the Ducklings were speaking in the same way,
and the poultry-yard was a most doleful place. The Bantam Hen was the
only really cheerful fowl there, and she got so tired of hearing the
rest sigh and grumble, that she often slipped between the pickets of the
fence and went to have a comfortable chat with the Oxen.
One day she fluttered toward them in a most excited manner. "Do I look
nearly crazy?" said she. "I feel so. Ever since our last storm, the
Guinea Fowls have been shut in with us, and I would give half of my
tail-feathers if they had never come here. That one with the
orange-colored legs can't see good in anything, and all of our steady,
sensible fowls have heard it until they begin to believe
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