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Love Among the Chickens A Story of the Haps and Mishaps on an English Chicken Farm   By: (1881-1975)

Book cover

First Page:

[Illustration: "Never mind the ink, old horse. It'll soak in."]

LOVE AMONG THE CHICKENS

A STORY OF THE HAPS AND MISHAPS ON AN ENGLISH CHICKEN FARM

BY P. G. WODEHOUSE

ILLUSTRATED BY

ARMAND BOTH

NEW YORK

THE CIRCLE PUBLISHING COMPANY

1909

Copyright, 1908, by A. E. BAERMAN

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. A LETTER WITH A POSTSCRIPT

II. UKRIDGE'S SCHEME

III. WATERLOO, SOME FELLOW TRAVELERS, AND A GIRL WITH BROWN HAIR

IV. THE ARRIVAL

V. BUCKLING TO

VI. MR. GARNET'S NARRATIVE. HAS TO DO WITH A REUNION

VII. THE ENTENTE CORDIALE IS SEALED

VIII. A LITTLE DINNER AT UKRIDGE'S

IX. DIES IRÆ

X. I ENLIST THE SERVICES OF A MINION

XI. THE BRAVE PRESERVER

XII. SOME EMOTIONS AND YELLOW LUBIN

XIII. TEA AND TENNIS

XIV. A COUNCIL OF WAR

XV. THE ARRIVAL OF NEMESIS

XVI. A CHANCE MEETING

XVII. OF A SENTIMENTAL NATURE

XVIII. UKRIDGE GIVES ME ADVICE

XIX. I ASK PAPA

XX. SCIENTIFIC GOLF

XXI. THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

XXII. THE STORM BREAKS

XXIII. AFTER THE STORM

EPILOGUE

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Never mind the ink, old horse. It'll soak in" Frontispiece

They had a momentary vision of an excited dog, framed in the doorway

"I've only bin and drove 'im further up," said Mrs. Beale

Things were not going very well on our model chicken farm

"Mr. Garnet," he said, "we parted recently in anger. I hope that bygones will be bygones"

"I did think Mr. Garnet would have fainted when the best man said, 'I can't find it, old horse'"

A LETTER with a POSTSCRIPT

I

Mr. Jeremy Garnet stood with his back to the empty grate for the time was summer watching with a jaundiced eye the removal of his breakfast things.

"Mrs. Medley," he said.

"Sir?"

"Would it bore you if I became auto biographical?"

"Sir?"

"Never mind. I merely wish to sketch for your benefit a portion of my life's history. At eleven o'clock last night I went to bed, and at once sank into a dreamless sleep. About four hours later there was a clattering on the stairs which shook the house like a jelly. It was the gentleman in the top room I forget his name returning to roost. He was humming a patriotic song. A little while later there were a couple of loud crashes. He had removed his boots. All this while snatches of the patriotic song came to me through the ceiling of my bedroom. At about four thirty there was a lull, and I managed to get to sleep again. I wish when you see that gentleman, Mrs. Medley, you would give him my compliments, and ask him if he could shorten his program another night. He might cut out the song, for a start."

"He's a very young gentleman, sir," said Mrs. Medley, in vague defense of her top room.

"And it's highly improbable," said Garnet, "that he will ever grow old, if he repeats his last night's performance. I have no wish to shed blood wantonly, but there are moments when one must lay aside one's personal prejudices, and act for the good of the race. A man who hums patriotic songs at four o'clock in the morning doesn't seem to me to fit into the scheme of universal happiness. So you will mention it to him, won't you?"

"Very well, sir," said Mrs. Medley, placidly.

On the strength of the fact that he wrote for the newspapers and had published two novels, Mrs. Medley regarded Mr. Garnet as an eccentric individual who had to be humored. Whatever he did or said filled her with a mild amusement. She received his daily harangues in the same spirit as that in which a nurse listens to the outpourings of the family baby... Continue reading book >>




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