Fritz Schmidt had never taught to question the truth of the tale.  So, when one cold, stormy night several boys from neighboring farms drove up to the Schmidt homestead and asked Fritz to join them in a hunt for “Elbadritchels,” he unhesitatingly agreed to make one of the number, unaware that he had been selected as the victim of a practical joke, and, as usual, was one of the jolliest of the crowd.  They drove through a blinding downpour of rain and dismounted on reaching a lonely hill about three miles distant.  They gave Fritz a bag to hold.  It was fashioned of burlap and barrel hoops, inside of which they placed a lighted candle, and Fritz was instructed how to hold it in order to attract the “Elbadritchel.”  They also gave him a club with which to strike the bird when it should appear.

The boys scampered off in different directions, ostensibly to chase up the birds, but in reality they clambered into the waiting wagon and were rapidly driven home, leaving Fritz alone awaiting the coming of the “Elbadritchel.”  When Fritz realized the trick played on him, his feelings may be better imagined than described.  He trudged home, cold and tired, vowing vengeance on the boys, fully resolved to get even with them.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE OLD SHANGHAI ROOSTER.

Much of Aunt Sarah’s spare time was devoted to her chickens, which fully repaid her for the care given them.  She was not particular about fancy stock, but had quite a variety—­White Leghorns, Brown Leghorns, big, fat, motherly old Brahma hens that had raised a brood of as many as thirty-five little chicks at one time, a few snow-white, large Plymouth Rocks and some gray Barred one.  The latter she liked particularly because she said they were much, more talkative than any of the others; they certainly did appear to chatter to her when she fed them.  She gave them clean, comfortable quarters, warm bran mash on cold winter mornings, alternating with cracked corn and “scratch feed” composed of a mixture of cracked corn, wheat and buckwheat, scattered over a litter of dried leaves on the floor of the chicken house, so they were obliged to work hard for their food.

[Illustration:  Old Egg Basket]

A plentiful supply of fresh water was always at hand, as well as cracked oyster shell.  She also fed the chickens all scraps from the table, cutting all meat scraps fine with an old pair of scissors hung conveniently in the kitchen.

She was very successful with the little chicks hatched out when she “set” a hen and the yield of eggs from her hens was usually greater and the eggs larger in size than those of any of her neighbors.  This I attribute to her excellent care of them, generous diet, but principally to the fact of the elimination of all the roosters among the flock during the season between the “first of May and December first,” with one exception.  “Brigham,” an