Up to this fence he rode to look over it,
hoping to speak to the people he heard within; but it was too high for
him to see over. Passing on, he brought his head level with a small
window that was let into the wall of one of the hen-houses. The window
had glass in it which was not at all clean, but a fragment of it was
broken, and through this Caius looked, intending to see if there was any
gate into the yard which he could reach from the path he was on.
Through the small room of deserted hen-roosts, through the door which
was wide open on the other side, he saw the sunny space of the yard
beyond. All the fowls were gathered in an open place that had been
shovelled between heaps of hard-packed snow. There were the bright tufts
of cocks' tails and the glossy backs of hens brown and yellow; there
were white ducks, and ducks that were green and black, and great gray
geese of slender make that were evidently descended from the wild goose
of the region. On the snow-heaps pigeons were standing--flitting and
constantly alighting--with all the soft dove-colours in their dress. In
front of the large feathered party was a young woman who stood, basin in
hand, scattering corn, now on one side, now on another, with fitful
caprice. She made game of the work of feeding them, coquettishly
pretending to throw the boon where she did not throw it, laughing the
while and talking to the birds, as if she and they led the same life and
talked the same language.
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