Mrs. Green wears whenever there is a wedding.

One pair of the pigeons sit a great deal of the time on the ridge-pole of
the barn and swell out their chests like proud, fat policemen. Farmer Green
calls them pouter pigeons.

They do not have harsh voices like the guinea-hen or the old black crows
which steal the corn from the field when Mr. Scarecrow gets tired and goes
to sleep. (We will introduce you to Mr. Scarecrow some evening very soon.)
But the voices of the pigeons are soft and low like mother's, especially
when Hepzebiah is sick and she sings her to sleep.

They will not have much to do with the chickens, these pigeons. Perhaps
they are like the people who live on the top floor of tall city houses and
do not go down often to talk with the people in the streets.

What a lot of chickens Farmer Green has! Almost two hundred, if they would
ever stay still long enough for Jehosophat to count them. They are called
White Wyandottes and they are very white and plump, with combs as red as
geraniums.

You know there are many kinds of chickens just as there are many kinds
of people, English, French, and Americans. Rhode Island Reds, Plymouth
Rocks, Cochins, and Leghorns are some of the chicken family names, but
Jehosophat's father does not believe in mixing families, he says, so only
the White Wyandottes live on the Green farm.

Jehosophat and Marmaduke love the big rooster best. The red comb on the
top of his head has teeth like a carpenter's saw, and is so large it
will not stand up straight. His white tail curves beautifully like the