It was only a few days after the Young Cock had been carried away by the Eagle, that the Man drove back from town with a very queer look upon his face. A small crate in the back end of the light wagon contained three odd-looking fowls. The Little Girls left their mud pies and ran toward the wagon. When they saw the crate, they ran into the house and called their mother to come out also.

“What have you now?” said she, as she stepped onto the side porch.

“Guinea-fowls,” answered the Man. “Just listen to this letter.” He drew it from his pocket and read aloud: “I send you, by express, a Guinea-Cock and two Guinea-Hens. They were given to me, and I have no place for keeping them. I remember hearing that they are excellent for scaring away Crows, so I send them on in the hope that they may be useful to you. If you do not wish to keep them, do what you choose with them.”

As he read three small and perfectly bald heads were thrust through the openings of the crate and turned and twisted until their owners had seen everything around. “I don’t know anything about Guinea-fowls,” said the Man, “but I will at least keep these long enough to find out. I have seen the Crows fly down and annoy the Hens several times, and it may be that these are just what we need.”

He took the crate down and opened it carefully. The three fowls that walked out looked almost exactly alike. All had very smooth and soft coats of black feathers covered with small round white spots. They were shaped quite like Turkeys, but were much smaller, with gray-brown legs, and heads which were not feathered at all. The skin of their faces and necks was red, and they had small wattles at the corners of their mouths. Bristle-like feathers stood out straight around the upper part of their necks, and below these were soft gray feathers which covered the neck and part of the chest. They walked directly toward the barnyard, where some of the farm fowls were picking up an early dinner. “Ca-mac!” said they “Ca-mac! Ca-mac! We want some too.”

Now the farm fowls were not especially polite, not having come of fine families or been taught good manners when they were Chickens, yet they did not at all like to have newcomers speak to them in this way. They noticed it all the more, because when the White Plymouth Rocks came they had acted so very differently. They stepped a little to one side, giving the Guinea-fowls enough room in which to scratch and pick around as they had been doing, but they did not say much to them.

The Gobbler was strutting back and forth among the smaller fowls. He disliked living with them as much as he had to now, but the Hen Turkeys would have nothing to say to him because he annoyed their Chicks. They went off with their children and left him alone, and, as he wanted company of some sort, he took what he could get. He thought it might be a good plan to make friends with the Guinea-fowls.

“Good-morning,” said he. “Have you come here to stay?”

“We shall stay if we like it,” answered the Guinea-Cock. “We always do what we like best.”

“Humph!” said the Shanghai Cock to himself. “Remarkable fowls! Wonder what the Man will think about that.”

“I hope you will like it,” said the Gobbler, who was so lonely that he really tried hard to be agreeable. “I understand quite how you feel about doing as you like. I always prefer to do what I prefer.”

“We do it,” remarked one of the Guinea-Hens, as she chased the Brown Hen away from the spot where she had been feeding, and swallowed a fat Worm which the Brown Hen had just uncovered.

“Yes,” said the other Guinea-Hen, “I guess we are just as good as anybody else.”

“Is there plenty to eat here?” asked the Guinea-Cock.

“Plenty,” answered the Gobbler. “It is much better than it used to be. There is a new Man here, and he takes better care of his fowls than the Farmer did. He doesn’t carry red handkerchiefs either.”

“I don’t care what kind of handkerchiefs he carries,” said the Guinea-Cock. “What makes you talk about such things?”

“You would know what makes me speak of them if you were a Gobbler,” was the answer. “I cannot bear red things. I cannot even eat my corn comfortably when anything red is around. You see it is quite important. Anything which spoils a fellow’s fun in eating is important.”

“Nothing would spoil my fun if I had the right sort of food,” remarked the Guinea-Cock. Then he turned to the Guinea-Hens. “Come,” he said. “We have eaten enough. Let us walk around and see the place.”

All three started off, walking along where-ever they chose, and stopping to feed or to talk about what they saw. Anybody could tell by looking at them that they were related to the Turkeys, but the Gobbler had not cared to remind them of that. He was looking for more company during the time when his own family left him so much alone. He knew that before very long the Turkey Chicks would be too large to fear him, and that when that time came, their mothers and they would be willing to walk with him. Then he would have less to do with the other poultry, and might not want three bad-mannered Guinea-fowl cousins tagging along after him.

Whenever the three met another fowl, they talked about him and said exactly what they thought, and if they passed a Hen who had just found a choice bit of food, they chased her away and ate it themselves. Sometimes they even chased fowls who were not in their way and who were not eating things that they wanted. It seemed as though they had simply made up their minds to do what they wanted to do, whenever and wherever they wished. They did not make much fuss about it, and if you had seen them when they were doing none of these mean things, you would have thought them very genteel. You would never have suspected that they could act as they did.

The Gander and the Geese passed near the Guinea-fowls and the Guinea-fowls did not chase them. They were not foolish enough to annoy people so much larger than they. It is true that the Hens were larger than they, yet the Guinea-fowls could make them run every time. If they had troubled the Geese, it might have ended with the Guinea-fowls doing the running. And the Guinea-fowls were cowards. They would never quarrel with people unless they were sure of beating.

“S-s-s-s-s-s-s!” said the Gander. “Are we to have that sort of people on this farm? If we are, I would rather live somewhere else. I do not see why there should be any disagreeable people anyway.”

“There should not be,” said the Geese, who always agreed with everything the Gander said, and who really believed as he did about this. “Disagreeable people should be sent away, or eaten up, or something.”

Both the Gander and the Geese thought themselves exceedingly agreeable, and so they were—when everything suited them. At other times they were often quite cross. Many people act like this, and seem to think it very sweet of them not to be cross all the time. Truly agreeable people, as you very well know, are those who can keep pleasant when things go wrong.

“Ca-mac!” said the three Guinea-fowls together. “There are some of those stupid Geese, who are always walking around and eating grass that is too short for anybody else. They eat grass, and grow feathers for Farmers’ Wives to pluck off. When we have gone to the trouble of growing a fine coat of feathers, we keep them as long as we wish, and then they drop out, a few at a time. If anybody wants our feathers, he must follow around after us and pick them up.”

Before night came, the Guinea-fowls had met and annoyed nearly all the poultry on the place. They had even made dashes at the smallest Chickens and frightened them dreadfully. The Man had been too busy to see much of the trouble that they made, but his Little Girls noticed it, for they had been watching the Guinea-fowls and hoping to find some of their beautiful spotted feathers lying around. When the Little Girls were eating their supper of bread and milk, they told their father about it.

“They walk around and look too good for anything,” said the brown-haired one, “but whenever they get a chance they chase the Hens and the Chickens.”

“Yes,” said the golden-haired Little Girl, “I even saw one of them scare the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen, the one who ate bread and salt with you.”

“That is very bad,” said the Man, gravely. “Any fowl that troubles the Barred Plymouth Rock Hen must be punished.”

“What will you do to them?” asked the golden-haired Little Girl. “I think you will have to shut them up. You couldn’t spank them, could you? Not even if you wanted to ever so much.”

“I shall decide to-night how to punish them,” said the Man, “and then in the morning we will see about it.” When he spoke he did not know how much time he would spend in thinking about the Guinea-fowls that night.

When it was time for them to go to roost, the Guinea-fowls fluttered and hopped upward until they reached quite a high branch in the apple-tree by the Man’s chamber window. Then, instead of going to sleep for the night, as one would think they would wish to do, they took short naps and awakened from time to time to visit with each other. It is true that they had seen much that was new during the day, and so had more than usual to talk about, but this was really no excuse, because they had the habit of talking much at night and would have been nearly as noisy if nothing at all had happened.

The Man was just going to sleep when they awakened from one of their naps and began to chat. “Ca-mac! Ca-mac!” said one. “I suppose those stupid fowls in the poultry-house are sound asleep, with their heads tucked under their wings. What do you think of the company here?”

“Good enough,” said another. “I don’t like any of them very much, but you can’t expect Geese and Ducks to be Guinea-fowls. We don’t have to talk to them. The Gobbler is trying to be agreeable, and when the Hen Turkeys can think of any thing besides their children we may find them good company.”

“It is a good thing that there are so many Hens here,” said the third. “The Man throws out their grain and then we can scare them away and eat all we want of it. What fun it is to see Hens run when they are frightened!”

After this short visit they went to sleep again, and so did the Man. But they went to sleep much more quickly than he did, and he was very tired and disliked being disturbed in that way. He had just fallen asleep when one of the Guinea-Hens awakened again. “Ca-mac!” said she to the others. “Ca-mac! Ca-mac! I have thought of something to say. How do you like the idea of living on this place?”

“We like it,” answered the Guinea-Cock and the other Guinea-Hen. Then they went on to tell why they liked it. They said that there were no children of the stone-throwing kind, no Dog, and no Cat. They had plenty of room for the long walks which they liked to take, and there were many chances to get the food which the Man threw out. When they had spoken of all these things the Guinea-Cock said: “It is decided then that we will stay here instead of running away to another farm. This is a good enough place for any fowl. Now let us take another nap.”

While they were thinking this, the Man was thinking something quite different. In the morning while the Guinea-fowls were eating grain which had been strewn in one of the yards, the Man closed the gate, and, helped by the Little Girls, drove the three Guinea-fowls into a corner and caught them. Then he put them into the crate in which they had come, and took them across the road to the Farmer who lived there.

When this was done there were many happy people left behind on the poultry-farm. The Little Girls were happy, because they had found four feathers which the Guinea-fowls lost in trying to get away from the Man. The Hens were happy, because they could now be more sure of eating the food which they found. The other poultry were glad to think that they would not have to listen to new-comers saying such dreadful things about them, and perhaps the Man, when he came back, was the happiest of all. “I gave them to the Farmer over there,” he said, “and he will give them to a poor family far away. I have stopped keeping Guinea-fowls to scare away the Crows. I would rather keep Crows to scare away the Guinea-fowls, but I think we can get along very comfortably without either.” And the poultry thought so too.