by the death of some member of the family. When, therefore, Dame Partlet
thus experiments upon the note of her mate, she pays her head as the
price of her temerity, a complete severance of the offending member
being supposed to be the only way of averting the threatened calamity.
No house, it is said, can thrive whose hens are addicted to this kind of
amusement. Hence the old proverb often quoted in this district:

"A whistling woman and a crowing hen,
Is neither fit for God nor men."

According to Pluquet, the Normans have a similar belief, and a saying
singularly like the English one:

"Un Poule qui chante le coq, et une fille qui siffle, portent
malheur dans la maison."

Before the death of a farmer his poultry frequently go to roost at
noon-day, instead of at the usual time. When the cock struts up to the
door and sounds his clarion on the threshold, the housewife is warned
that she may soon expect a stranger. In what is technically termed
"setting a hen," care is taken that the nest be composed of an odd
number of eggs. If even, the chickens would not prosper. Each egg is
always marked with a little black cross, ostensibly for the purpose of
distinguishing them from the others, but also supposed to be
instrumental in producing good chickens, and preventing any attack from
the weasel or other farm-yard marauders. The last egg the hen lays is
carefully preserved, its possession being supposed to operate as a charm
upon the well-doing of the poultry. In some cases, though less commonly,
the one laid on Good Friday is preserved, from the same reason. When a
baby is first taken out to see its friends, it is customary for them to