feathers, even offering his assistance when it came time to pull out the larger wing feathers.
“Move your hand down closer to the chicken’s body and pull them out from the base instead of grabbing them by the end,” he
suggested. “They come out easier that way, and you don’t break them off.”
“OK, thanks,” Jody murmured, forgetting her resentment and concentrating on doing the job just so. Mary was already seated
with a burlap feed bag on her lap, working on the smaller feathers of her chicken, and Mrs. McMurray was carefully passing
a plucked bird over the small flame in the singeing pan, burning off the last of the tiny hairlike feathers.
It was almost time for milking when the picking crew finished the last of the poultry that had been ordered for market. Jimmy
and Roy left to help Willie get the cows into the barnyard, and Mary and Jody stayed behind to assist Mrs. McMurray with the
sweeping of all the wayward feathers from the picking house floor.
“Now, we’ll finish up after milking, but as I said, you girls don’t have to help with that part,” Mrs. McMurray said generously,
not mentioning again exactly what that part would be. Then another thought occurred to her.
“You know, we do have a few extra chickens that haven’t been ordered for market,” she said. “Should I call your parents and
tell them? Wouldn’t you like some fresh chicken for dinner tonight?”
“No!” Mary and Jody shouted in unison.
“I mean, thanks, Mrs. McMurray, but I don’t think I could eat chicken right now,” Mary said sheepishly.
“Me either,” Jodi agreed. “It’s different when it comes from the grocery store and you don’t know it personally.”
This time Mrs. McMurray didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “OK, girls, I understand,” she laughed. “Now come on up to
the house and I’ll pay you for your labor. I know it won’t help your predicament much, but it’s a little something, anyway.”
The girls sighed as they followed Mrs. McMurray to the big stone house. They had been so involved in learning the new skill
of chicken plucking that they had almost forgotten about the crisis with Star. And that was just what Mrs. McMurray had intended.
14
The Visitor
THE NEXT MORNING found Mary and Jody straddling the lowest and thickest branch of the horse chestnut tree in the side yard
of the big stone farmhouse, shelling corn off of the cob by hand for the Muscovy ducks that roamed freely on the property.
The squatty white ducks fought each other greedily for the hard kernels of corn dropping from the tree, swallowing them whole
and pecking the ground for more. The girls would normally be giggling at the antics of the funny-looking fowl, but this morning
they were too lost in thoughts of Star and the dreadful possibility of losing him. Neither of them wanted to be the first
to bring up the subject, so they sat apathetically loosening the corn from the cob with their thumbs and watching in silence
as each yellow kernel dropped to the ground.
The silence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a car’s tires crunching on the gravel of the long farm lane. Mary and
Jody looked up to see a small blue sedan pull up in the driveway of the farmhouse and a man with a clipboard in his hand emerge
and knock on the door.
“They’re not home,” Mary said quietly so that only Jody could hear. “They’re off to market to sell naked chickens.”
Jody giggled in spite of herself as they continued to watch the man. He knocked once more and then turned and got back in
his car. But rather than driving out the lane, he steered toward the house trailer where the Mooneys lived. Mary and Jody
peered through the leaves of the horse chestnut tree as the man got out of his car once more and spoke to Annie, who was out
in the front yard playing with Heath. Annie disappeared into the trailer and soon reappeared with her father, who began a
long conversation with the
“Move your hand down closer to the chicken’s body and pull them out from the base instead of grabbing them by the end,” he
suggested. “They come out easier that way, and you don’t break them off.”
“OK, thanks,” Jody murmured, forgetting her resentment and concentrating on doing the job just so. Mary was already seated
with a burlap feed bag on her lap, working on the smaller feathers of her chicken, and Mrs. McMurray was carefully passing
a plucked bird over the small flame in the singeing pan, burning off the last of the tiny hairlike feathers.
It was almost time for milking when the picking crew finished the last of the poultry that had been ordered for market. Jimmy
and Roy left to help Willie get the cows into the barnyard, and Mary and Jody stayed behind to assist Mrs. McMurray with the
sweeping of all the wayward feathers from the picking house floor.
“Now, we’ll finish up after milking, but as I said, you girls don’t have to help with that part,” Mrs. McMurray said generously,
not mentioning again exactly what that part would be. Then another thought occurred to her.
“You know, we do have a few extra chickens that haven’t been ordered for market,” she said. “Should I call your parents and
tell them? Wouldn’t you like some fresh chicken for dinner tonight?”
“No!” Mary and Jody shouted in unison.
“I mean, thanks, Mrs. McMurray, but I don’t think I could eat chicken right now,” Mary said sheepishly.
“Me either,” Jodi agreed. “It’s different when it comes from the grocery store and you don’t know it personally.”
This time Mrs. McMurray didn’t even try to hide her amusement. “OK, girls, I understand,” she laughed. “Now come on up to
the house and I’ll pay you for your labor. I know it won’t help your predicament much, but it’s a little something, anyway.”
The girls sighed as they followed Mrs. McMurray to the big stone house. They had been so involved in learning the new skill
of chicken plucking that they had almost forgotten about the crisis with Star. And that was just what Mrs. McMurray had intended.
14
The Visitor
THE NEXT MORNING found Mary and Jody straddling the lowest and thickest branch of the horse chestnut tree in the side yard
of the big stone farmhouse, shelling corn off of the cob by hand for the Muscovy ducks that roamed freely on the property.
The squatty white ducks fought each other greedily for the hard kernels of corn dropping from the tree, swallowing them whole
and pecking the ground for more. The girls would normally be giggling at the antics of the funny-looking fowl, but this morning
they were too lost in thoughts of Star and the dreadful possibility of losing him. Neither of them wanted to be the first
to bring up the subject, so they sat apathetically loosening the corn from the cob with their thumbs and watching in silence
as each yellow kernel dropped to the ground.
The silence was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a car’s tires crunching on the gravel of the long farm lane. Mary and
Jody looked up to see a small blue sedan pull up in the driveway of the farmhouse and a man with a clipboard in his hand emerge
and knock on the door.
“They’re not home,” Mary said quietly so that only Jody could hear. “They’re off to market to sell naked chickens.”
Jody giggled in spite of herself as they continued to watch the man. He knocked once more and then turned and got back in
his car. But rather than driving out the lane, he steered toward the house trailer where the Mooneys lived. Mary and Jody
peered through the leaves of the horse chestnut tree as the man got out of his car once more and spoke to Annie, who was out
in the front yard playing with Heath. Annie disappeared into the trailer and soon reappeared with her father, who began a
long conversation with the
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