Love Among the Chickens | Page 6

and
hatch chickens. Suppose you have a dozen hens. Very well, then. When
each of the dozen has a dozen chickens, you send the old hens back
with thanks for the kind loan, and there you are, starting business with
a hundred and forty-four free chickens to your name. And after a bit,
when the chickens grow up and begin to lay, all you have to do is to sit
back in your chair and gather in the big checks. Isn't that so, Millie?"
"Yes, dear," said Mrs. Ukridge with shining eyes.
"We've fixed it all up. Do you know Lyme Regis, in Dorsetshire? On
the borders of Devon. Quiet little fishing village. Bathing. Sea air.
Splendid scenery. Just the place for a chicken farm. I've been looking

after that. A friend of my wife's has lent us a jolly old house with large
grounds. All we've got to do is to get in the fowls. That's all right. I've
ordered the first lot. We shall find them waiting for us when we arrive."
"Well," said Garnet, "I'm sure I wish you luck. Mind you let me know
how you get on."
"Let you know!" roared Ukridge. "Why, old horse, you've got to come,
too. We shall take no refusal. Shall we, Millie?"
"No, dear," murmured Mrs. Ukridge.
"Of course not," said Ukridge. "No refusal of any sort. Pack up to-night,
and meet us at Waterloo to-morrow."
"It's awfully good of you--" began Garnet a little blankly.
"Not a bit of it, not a bit of it. This is pure business. I was saying to my
wife when we came in that you were the very man for us. 'If old
Garnet's in town,' I said, 'we'll have him. A man with his flow of ideas
will be invaluable on a chicken farm.' Didn't I, Millie?"
Mrs. Ukridge murmured the response.
"You see, I'm one of these practical men. I go straight ahead, following
my nose. What you want in a business of this sort is a touch of the
dreamer to help out the practical mind. We look to you for suggestions,
Montmorency. Timely suggestions with respect to the comfort and
upbringing of the fowls. And you can work. I've seen you. Of course
you take your share of the profits. That's understood. Yes, yes, I must
insist. Strict business between friends. We must arrange it all when we
get down there. My wife is the secretary of the firm. She has been
writing letters to people, asking for fowls. So you see it's a thoroughly
organized concern. There's money in it, old horse. Don't you forget
that."
"We should be so disappointed if you did not come," said Mrs. Ukridge,
lifting her childlike eyes to Garnet's face.

Garnet stood against the mantelpiece and pondered. In after years he
recognized that that moment marked an epoch in his life. If he had
refused the invitation, he would not have--but, to quote the old
novelists, we anticipate. At any rate, he would have missed a
remarkable experience. It is not given to everyone to see Mr. Stanley
Ukridge manage a chicken farm.
"The fact is," he said at last, "I was thinking of going somewhere where
I could get some golf."
Ukridge leaped on the table triumphantly.
"Lyme Regis is just the place for you, then. Perfect hotbed of golf. Fine
links at the top of the hill, not half a mile from the farm. Bring your
clubs. You'll be able to have a round or two in the afternoons. Get
through serious work by lunch time."
"You know," said Garnet, "I am absolutely inexperienced as regards
fowls."
"Excellent!" said Ukridge. "Then you're just the man. You will bring to
the work a mind entirely unclouded by theories. You will act solely by
the light of your intelligence."
"Er--yes," said Garnet.
"I wouldn't have a professional chicken farmer about the place if he
paid to come. Natural intelligence is what we want. Then we can rely
on you?"
"Very well," said Garnet slowly. "It's very kind of you to ask me."
"It's business, Cuthbert, business. Very well, then. We shall catch the
eleven-twenty at Waterloo. Don't miss it. You book to Axminster. Look
out for me on the platform. If I see you first, I'll shout."
Garnet felt that that promise rang true.
"Then good-by for the present. Millie, we must be off. Till to-morrow,

Garnet."
"Good-by, Mr. Garnet," said Mrs. Ukridge.
Looking back at the affair after the lapse of years, Garnet was
accustomed to come to the conclusion that she was the one pathetic
figure in the farce. Under what circumstances she had married Ukridge
he did not learn till later. He was also uncertain whether at any moment
in her career she regretted it. But it was certainly pathetic to