



Produced by David Newman, Chuck Greif, Janet Blenkinship
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  Among the Farmyard People

  BY

  Clara Dillingham Pierson

  Author of "Among the Meadow People," and "Forest People".


  Illustrated by F. C. GORDON


  [Illustration]


  NEW YORK
  Copyright by
  E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY
  31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET
  1899




TO THE CHILDREN

_Dear Little Friends:_

I want to introduce the farmyard people to you, and to have you call
upon them and become better acquainted as soon as you can. Some of them
are working for us, and we surely should know them. Perhaps, too, some
of us are working for them, since that is the way in this delightful
world of ours, and one of the happiest parts of life is helping and
being helped.

It is so in the farmyard, and although there is not much work that the
people there can do for each other, there are many kind things to be
said, and even the Lame Duckling found that he could make the Blind
Horse happy when he tried. It is there as it is everywhere else, and I
sometimes think that although the farmyard people do not look like us or
talk like us, they are not so very different after all. If you had seen
the little Chicken who wouldn't eat gravel when his mother was reproving
him, you could not have helped knowing his thoughts even if you did not
understand a word of the Chicken language. He was thinking, "I don't
care! I don't care a bit! So now!" That was long since, for he was a
Chicken when I was a little girl, and both of us grew up some time ago.
I think I have always been more sorry for him because when he was
learning to eat gravel I was learning to eat some things which I did not
like; and so, you see, I knew exactly how he felt. But it was not until
afterwards that I found out how his mother felt.

That is one of the stories which I have been keeping a long time for
you, and the Chicken was a particular friend of mine. I knew him better
than I did some of his neighbors; yet they were all pleasant
acquaintances, and if I did not see some of these things happen with my
own eyes, it is just because I was not in the farmyard at the right
time. There are many other tales I should like to tell you about them,
but one mustn't make the book too fat and heavy for your hands to hold,
so I will send you these and keep the rest.

Many stories might be told about our neighbors who live out-of-doors,
and they are stories that ought to be told, too, for there are still
boys and girls who do not know that animals think and talk and work, and
love their babies, and help each other when in trouble. I knew one boy
who really thought it was not wrong to steal newly built birds'-nests,
and I have seen girls--quite large ones, too--who were afraid of Mice!
It was only last winter that a Quail came to my front door, during the
very cold weather, and snuggled down into the warmest corner he could
find. I fed him, and he stayed there for several days, and I know, and
you know, perfectly well that although he did not say it in so many
words, he came to remind me that I had not yet told you a Quail story.
And two of my little neighbors brought ten Polliwogs to spend the day
with me, so I promised then and there that the next book should be about
pond people and have a Polliwog story in it.

And now, good-bye! Perhaps some of you will write me about your visits
to the farmyard. I hope you will enjoy them very much, but be sure you
don't wear red dresses or caps when you call on the Turkey Gobbler.

      Your friend,
  CLARA DILLINGHAM PIERSON.

     Stanton, Michigan,
        March 28, 1899.




  CONTENTS


                                                                    PAGE
  THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL                               1

  THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL                                      12

  THE WONDERFUL SHINY EGG                                             20

  THE DUCKLING WHO DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO                             33

  THE FUSSY QUEEN BEE                                                 47

  THE BAY COLT LEARNS TO MIND                                         64

  THE TWIN LAMBS                                                      82

  THE VERY SHORT STORY OF THE FOOLISH LITTLE MOUSE                    96

  THE LONELY LITTLE PIG                                              106

  THE KITTEN WHO LOST HERSELF                                        116

  THE CHICKEN WHO WOULDN'T EAT GRAVEL                                136

  THE GOOSE WHO WANTED HER OWN WAY                                   149

  WHY THE SHEEP RAN AWAY                                             160

  THE FINE YOUNG RAT AND THE TRAP                                    172

  THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER                                  186

  THE BRAGGING PEACOCK                                               199

  THE DISCONTENTED GUINEA HEN                                        213

  THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES                                      232




  ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                                    PAGE
  THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING                                              2

  THE LAMB WITH THE LONGEST TAIL                                      16

  THEY HAD A GOOD SWIM                                                40

  HAD A SORE MOUTH FROM JERKING ON THE LINES                          77

  FEEDING THE LAMBS                                                   84

  EVERY BROWN PIG RAN OFF                                            110

  "I AM THE WHITE KITTEN"                                            130

  THE GRAY GOOSE TRIED TO GO THROUGH                                 156

  COLLIE AND THE BELL-WETHER                                         170

  THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD
    HER. _Frontispiece_                                              194

  THE PEACOCK WAS STANDING ON THE FENCE,                             208

  THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF                                    243




THE STORY THAT THE SWALLOW DIDN'T TELL


"Listen!" said the Nigh Ox, "don't you hear some friends coming?"

The Off Ox raised his head from the grass and stopped to brush away a
Fly, for you never could hurry either of the brothers. "I don't hear any
footfalls," said he.

"You should listen for wings, not feet," said the Nigh Ox, "and for
voices, too."

Even as he spoke there floated down from the clear air overhead a soft
"tittle-ittle-ittle-ee," as though some bird were laughing for
happiness. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the meadow was covered
with thousands and thousands of green grass blades, each so small and
tender, and yet together making a most beautiful carpet for the feet of
the farmyard people, and offering them sweet and juicy food after their
winter fare of hay and grain. Truly it was a day to make one laugh aloud
for joy. The alder tassels fluttered and danced in the spring breeze,
while the smallest and shyest of the willow pussies crept from their
little brown houses on the branches to grow in the sunshine.

[Illustration: THE SWALLOWS ARE COMING.]

"Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee! Tittle-ittle-ittle-ee!" And this time it was
louder and clearer than before.

"The Swallows!" cried the Oxen to each other. Then they straightened
their strong necks and bellowed to the Horses, who were drawing the plow
in the field beyond, "The Swallows are coming!"

As soon as the Horses reached the end of the furrow and could rest a
minute, they tossed their heads and whinnied with delight. Then they
looked around at the farmer, and wished that he knew enough of the