Our mothers bought all the chicks at the market, but this time it wasn't. It's not the mother who is trying to save money, it's the black and white hen that saves us money. The mother said that in the past few mornings, when she went to catch eggs, she saw the hen squatting all the time, not moving, trying to drive it out of the shed, and after the hen muttered a few times, she began to peck her mother's hand with her sharp beak. Not long after the mother left, the hen went out of the shed to eat, and the mother went to catch the eggs again, and the hen saw it, crackled and flew up, rushed to the front of the mother, and sat on the eggs again, and refused to let the mother catch the eggs. The mother was stunned: this hen is also insane, and the eggs are for people to eat! The hen doesn't care, even the food is looking east and west, ready to fight the egg catcher.

Finally, the hen had a nest of eggs, and before long, the hen had a flock of lively chicks, which were hatched by the hen. These chicks are smaller than our fists, and after about half a month the chicks will be able to walk. Now the hen began to lead the chicks with fluttering wings, letting the chicks follow her buttocks, quacking from the field to the garden, and from the garden to the field, and so on and on. As she walked, the hen kept her neck up, her eyes looked around, and she paid attention to every step, and a sparrow flew by, and a leaf fell, and she immediately stared at each other to see what it was, and sometimes tilted her head to listen to the sound, and from time to time flapped her wings, as if to make way for the safe travel of her children, and was not sloppy at all.

The chicken's running is not an exercise, but foraging. When the hen found something to eat on the ground, she cooed, pecked at the thing herself, made sure that it was edible, and immediately turned her head and told the chickens to nod and eat, and every time she did so, she never ate it first. After half a month, the belly of the chick is round, even the chicken feathers are shining, and the hen herself has lost a lot of weight, and the fur is scattered, like the hair of a lazy woman. After my mother sprinkled some grains or grains of rice on them, the hen always looked at them for a few seconds, and then slowly passed by, first let the chicks eat, and after the chicks were full, the hens pecked out the particles from the cracks in the mud, and if other big chickens came to grab food, it looked at each other angrily, pecked and jumped, and a few big roosters thought that they were big, and fought with the hens, and after a few rounds, they saw that the hens would rather die than give in, and simply went elsewhere.

When the meal was finished, and when it was time to rest in the afternoon, the hen was not idle, and began to teach the chicks how to peck at food, how to plow the ground with their feet, and how to bathe themselves with crushed mud; Sometimes I run with the chicks, sometimes I also teach the children how to fight, the hens never call tired, but when they are tired, the hens will rest half-squatting. But at that time, the chickens will all come to the hen's side, and they especially like to huddle under the hen's wings and chest, like warmth, and like condolences. If the hen is prostrate on the ground, the chicks will start to climb on the hen's back along the hen's legs and feet, and when they have gained a foothold, they will peck the hen's head or other place with their beaks.

Soon the chicks grew taller and taller, and they began to walk in front of the hens, who were behind the chicks, separated by a few steps, and watched them quietly go east and west.

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