The white hen has been laying her eggs somewhere, but we can’t find them. Suddenly, the roost isn’t good enough. This afternoon, Maria was away and I went out to do the afternoon chores, and when I came into the barn to get the hay she popped up from the very top of the hay stack, clucking imperiously. I’m sure we’ll find the eggs up there.

Chickens have an amazing ability to hide their egg-laying spots, and the white hen is crafty. She looked happy sitting up there, somewhat indignant but unbowed.