Village Squire, 1975-11, Page 16were some old fox pens because Grandpa had raised silver foxes
at one time.
"Lost my shirt in those things," he would say. "Didn't get out
soon enough."
The hens were housed in a small old-fashioned pen and picked
their living around the barn yard. Of course Grandpa gave them a
bit of grain now and then but as for this expensive prepared feed
with all the vitamins and things in it, no sir.
Grandpa drove a fifteen year old car. He repaired this car
himself, it never wore out. When he went to Goderich for
anything he drove at a careful forty miles an hour so as not to
shake the car. Something might fall off. Grandpa followed this
principle in all his operations, his pace was unhurried, his
attitude relaxed. Eventually things got done.
Reynard was acquainted with the Parsons' farm. He had
looked it over and'considered all possibilities. The odor from the
hen house was attractive, a warm smell of feathers and fat juicy
meat. He thought of how the pups would enjoy a hen. He would
like so much to get one for the little fellows. Fatherly feeling
,overcame his caution. Grandpa kept the pen door securely closed
but there was a small opening the hens used. Reynard entered
here and selected a hen. There was some noisy squawking but
Bozo, Grandpa's hound slept through it all. Reynard left with the
hen draped over his shoulder. It was a neat job but some feathers
were dropped and they were there in the morning for all to see.
Reynard was pleased with himself but Rowena was not happy.
"Now you'll see, we'll have that old gaffer down on us," she
said, or sounds to that effect.
Rowena was right.
"Jimmy" said Grandpa, next day, "We gotta do something. If
we don't clean up on those foxes they just might clean us out o`
4 poultry. We gotta do some thinking."
By evening the plan was complete.
"James my boy, this is what we'll do. In the morning before
day break I will go to the den. I should catch both the old ones
away hunting. You come when you get your breakfast and stay.
That let's me home to do the chores. I'll bring some lunch for us
at noon and then we'll see."
They sat next mid-day on a barn sack spread over a rock and
ate boiled egg sandwiches and drank coffee from a thermos.
Jimmie's heart rejoiced in the warmth of the sun, the mellow
freshness of the summer air, and a general sense of well-being.
There was also a primitive excitement. At home in the city
were picture books of animals and out doors and tales of
adventure. Here he was living the story a part of the pictures.
Grandpa told some whoppers about foxes he had hunted and
trapped, not underestimating his own cleverness. He spoke of
silver fox pelts that he had sold for fabulous prices. In the midst •
of this he went to sleep.
Jimmy waited patiently until the 'sleeper woke with a start.
"Hm, hm, dozed off there I guess, up too early this
morning...well let's go, let's go, come quiet down to the den now.
Bring the sack."
They leaned over the den entrance. After a time they could
hear movement. There was some uneasy rustling and
whimpering.
"Now look Jim, hold the bran sack so; I'II try to coax them."
Grandpa wriggled closer to the entrance. He commenced a
peculiar clucking deep in his throat.
"Gluck, gluck, gluck, coo, coo, coo-ook, coo-ook."
Rising and falling, softer and louder this went on for some
minutes.
There were answering whimpers and a small head appeared.
Down flashed Grandpa's hairy and still speedy arm and the first
pup disappeared in the sack.
In 10 minutes the other two pups were caught also. Hungry,
thirsty, and lonely because of the strange absence of their
parents they were easily fooled.
The two conspirators rose with the sack, Grandpa groaning
with his stiff knees. There was a weird squall from the woods,
desolate, despairing and angry.
"Too bad old girl you should have left the hens alone."
• They put the pups in one of the old tox pens. There was an
aged and shaky kennel in there too.
"We can keep them can't we Grandpop?" "I'll look after
them...they're pretty cute aren't they?"
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