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Updated: May 21, 2025
My yellow-beaks and two-year-olds I shall kill off as we're able to eat them, for an old hen is a useless and profitless possession and I begin to understand why lordly man has appropriated that phrase as a term of contempt for certain of my sex. I'm trading in my eggs and likewise my butter at Buckhorn, selling the Number One grade and holding back the Number Twos for home consumption.
And with the word He tucked in his head, and went off again. "The folly of childhood," sighed his mother, "Has always been my especial bother." The yellow-beaks they slept on and on They never had heard of the bogy To-morrow; But the mother sat outside, making her moan She'll soon have to beg, or steal, or borrow. For she never can tell the night before, Where she shall find one red worm more.
"Yes, child," said his mother heedlessly, thinking only of what she should do after to-morrow. Diamond began and repeated the poem, for he had a wonderful memory. A little bird sat on the edge of her nest; Her yellow-beaks slept as sound as tops; That day she had done her very best, And had filled every one of their little crops.
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