Miss Minerva and William Green HillCalhoun, Frances Boyd
General
Miss Minerva and William Green Hill
Calhoun, Frances Boyd
Aunts -- Fiction; Southern States -- Fiction
“We might just as well git 'em all now,” said Billy. “Aunt Cindy say
they's some kinder hens won't lay no chickens 't all if folks put they
hands in they nests an' this here hen look like to me she's one of them
kind, so the rester the egg'll jest be waste, any how, 'cause you done
put yo' han's in her nes', an' a dominicker ain't a-goin' to stan' no
projeckin' with her eggs. Hurry up.”
Jimmy carefully distributed the eggs inside his blouse, and Billy once
more crawled through the hole and stood on the outside waiting, cap in
hand, to receive them.
But the patient hen had at last raised her voice in angry protest and
set up a furious cackling, which so frightened the little boy on the
inside that he was panic-stricken. He caught hold of a low roost pole,
swung himself up and, wholly unmindful of his blouse full of eggs,
pushed his lower limbs through the hole and stuck fast. A pair of
chubby, sturdy legs, down which were slowly trickling little yellow
rivulets, and half of a plump, round body were all that would go
through.
“Pull!” yelled the owner of the short fat legs. “I'm stuck and can't go
no furder. Pull me th'oo, Billy.”
About this time the defrauded fowl flew from her nest and attempted
to get out by her rightful exit. Finding it stopped up by a wriggling,
squirming body she perched herself on the little boy's neck and flapped
her enraged wings in his face.
“Pull!” yelled the child again, “help me th'oo, Billy, 'fore this fool
chicken pecks all the meat off 'm my bones.”
Billy grabbed the sticky limbs and gave a valiant tug, but the body did
not move an inch. Alas, Jimmy with his cargo of broken eggs was fast
imprisoned.
“Pull again!” yelled the scared and angry child, “you 'bout the idjetest
idjet they is if you can't do no better 'n that.”
Billy jerked with all his strength, but with no visible result.
“Pull harder! You no-count gump!” screamed the prisoner, beating off the
hen with his hands.
The boy on the outside, who was strong for his years, braced himself
and gave a mighty wrench of the other child's stout extremities. Jimmy
howled in pain and gave his friend an energetic kick.
“Lemme go!” he shrieked, “you old impe'dunt backbiter. I'm going to tell
Miss Minerva you pulled my legs out by the roots.”
A small portion of the prisoner's blouse was visible. Billy caught hold
of it and gave a strong jerk. There was a sound of ripping and tearing
and the older boy fell sprawling on his back with a goodly portion of
the younger child's raiment in his hands.
“Now see what you done,” yelled the victim of his energy, “you ain't
got the sense of a buffalo gnat. Oh! oh! This hole is 'bout to cut my
stomach open.”
“Hush, Jimmy!” warned the other child. “Don't make so much noise. Aunt
Minerva'll hear you.”
“I want her to hear me,” screamed Jimmy. “You'd like me to stay stuck in
a chicken hole all night. Oh! oh! oh!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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