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Updated: June 25, 2025
There was a scuffling "cluck" on the roosts, but when he sat down on an overturned box, the fowls settled into stillness and, except for an occasional sleepy squawk, the place was quiet. He drew a long breath, and dropped his chin on his fist. "Now I'll think," he said. Then, through the cobwebby windows, he saw in the yellowing west the new moon, and below it the line of distant hills.
In the morning, the strange visitor was discovered, and the tom cat began to purr, and the hen to cluck. "What is that noise about?" said the old woman, looking round the room, but her sight was not very good; therefore, when she saw the duckling she thought it must be a fat duck, that had strayed from home.
Besides, I greatly disbelieve the entire story, so don't be worried about it! There -as if we had not been doing our best to worry you! But come home, dearest old Lily. Gather your chicks under your wing, and when you cluck them together again, all will be well. I don't think you will find Valetta disimproved by her crisis.
A dozen hens or more began to cluck about over the white sand, bossed by a wicked rooster with a tenor voice who was more than a match for any stray dog that came along looking for trouble. From a pen nearby echoed the grunts of a hog too fat to breathe without disturbing the neighborhood.
"I couldn't, of course, think of doing it every Sunday, you understand. It wouldn't be fair to myself nor my work which I have just left; but, of course, if there were sufficient inducement I might consent to preach some Sunday before I leave." Mrs. Tanner's little satisfied cluck was quite audible as the girl closed the front door and went out to the waiting Bud.
Many's the time that I've thought somebody was coming along, sort of limping cluck chu cluck chu when the tide was half-way up in the cave over there. And the wind was blowing west last night: 'tis with a west wind it sounds the plainest." "May-be 'twas that, my friend," said the woman, taking up the pail to fetch the water from the well across the common.
And this is repeated indefinitely, like the bells of the village pealing on a holiday: "cluck, click, clock; cluck, click, clock!" The batrachian choristers remind me of a certain harmonica which I used to covet when my six-year-old ear began to awaken to the magic of sounds. It consisted of a series of strips of glass of unequal length, hung on two stretched tapes.
That very day the children began to hunt for the hidden eggs. They climbed up into the barn loft and looked in the hay. Here they found Mrs. Nicker on her nest. When they came near she ruffled up her feathers and gave an angry cluck. "Don't be afraid," laughed Betty; "we are looking for something worth much more than one little hen's egg."
"A forward boy," exclaimed the Dominie. "Yes," replied Tom "I'm generally forward." "Art thou forward in thy learning? Canst thou tell me Latin for goose?" "To be sure," replied Tom; "Brandy." "Brandy!" exclaimed the Dominie. "Nay, child, it is anser." "Then I was right," replied Tom. "You had your answer!" "The boy is apt." Cluck cluck.
Cluck! cluck! soul!" Then she gathers up the rice in a basket, carries it to the sufferer, and drops the grains from her hand on his head, saying again, "Cluck! cluck! soul!" Here the intention clearly is to decoy back the loitering bird-soul and replace it in the head of its owner.
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