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One
hen, with her yellow chickens, was in a coop. Maurice took his hand full
of corn and let the hen peck from it.
"Durst you do it?" he asked of Paul.
"Let's see," said Paul.
He had a small hand, warm, and rather capable-looking. Miriam watched.
He held the corn to the hen. The bird eyed it with her hard, bright eye,
and suddenly made a peck into his hand. He started, and laughed. "Rap,
rap, rap!" went the bird's beak in his palm. He laughed again, and the
other boys joined.
"She knocks you, and nips you, but she never hurts," said Paul, when the
last corn had gone. "Now, Miriam," said Maurice, "you come an 'ave a
go."
"No," she cried, shrinking back.
"Ha! baby. The mardy-kid!" said her brothers.
"It doesn't hurt a bit," said Paul. "It only just nips rather nicely."
"No," she still cried, shaking her black curls and shrinking.
"She dursn't," said Geoffrey. "She niver durst do anything except recite
poitry."
"Dursn't jump off a gate, dursn't tweedle, dursn't go on a slide,
dursn't stop a girl hittin' her.


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