Literary Chickens

Lying down on the job (not laying)

I think the hens use this hot weather as excuse.  They're supposed to scratching and laying eggs and eat bugs.  That's just what they always do.  But today--no!  Maybe they sneaked off behind the bathhouse to read Shakespeare. Finding where they hide the book will be first of the Things I get to do today.




There was fussing and cackling and clucking.   We thought all the gals must have laid their eggs at once. And then all was quite still.  Only one egg from five hens and hardly enough scratching in the whole day to settle a mild itch amongst the whole flock.  Indeed, it was "much ado about nothing."