ily from. She was shrieking about the hen-house
as the Virginian came in to observe (I suspect) what I might be doing
now that could be useful for him to mention in the bunk-house.

He stood awhile, and at length said, "We lost our best rooster when Mrs.
Henry came to live hyeh."

I paid no attention.

"He was a right elegant Dominicker," he continued.

I felt a little riled about the snapping-turtle, and showed no interest
in what he was saying, but continued my functions among the hens. This
unusual silence of mine seemed to elicit unusual speech from him.

"Yu' see, that rooster he'd always lived round hyeh when the Judge was
a bachelor, and he never seen no ladies or any persons wearing female
gyarments. You ain't got rheumatism, seh?"

"Me? No."

"I reckoned maybe them little odd divers yu' got damp goin' afteh--" He
paused.

"Oh, no, not in the least, thank you."

"Yu' seemed sort o' grave this mawnin', and I'm cert'nly glad it ain't
them divers."

"Well, the rooster?" I inquired finally.

"Oh, him! He weren't raised where he could see petticoats. Mrs. Henry
she come hyeh from the railroad with the Judge afteh dark. Next mawnin'
early she walked out to view her new home, and the rooster was a-feedin'
by the door, and he seen her. Well, seh, he screeched that awful I run
out of the bunk-house; and he jus' went over the fence and took down
Sunk Creek shoutin' fire, right along. He has never come back."

"There's a hen over there now that has no judgment," I said, indicating
Em'ly. She had got herself outside the house, and was on the bars of a
corral, her vociferations reduced to an occasional squawk. I told him
about the potatoes.

"I never knowed her name before," said he. "That runaway rooster, he
hated her. And she hated him same as she hates 'em all."

"I named her myself," said I, "after I came to notice her particularly.
There's an old maid at home who's charitable, and belongs to the Cruelty
to Animals, and she never knows whether she had better cross in front
of a street car or wait. I named the hen after her. Does she ever lay
eggs?"

The Virginian had not "troubled his haid" over the poultry.

"Well, I don't believe she knows how. I think she came near being a
rooster."

"She's sure manly-lookin'," said the Virginian. We had walked toward the
corral, and he was now scrutinizing Em'ly with interest.

She was an egregious fowl. She was huge and gaunt, with great yellow
beak, and she