My Uncle...


 

My uncle was in the fertilized egg business when I was young. He had several hundred young layers, called pullets, and eight roosters whose job was to fertilize the eggs.

Uncle kept records, and any rooster or pullet that didn't perform well went into the pot and was replaced. Now, this took an awful lot of time.
So when my uncle saw a set of eight tiny bells that each rang a different tone he promptly bought them. He glued a piece of foam rubber to each clapper shaft so the bell wouldn't ring except when violently shaken.

He hung a bell on each rooster's neck and went and mixed a mint julep. Now he could sit on the porch and sip while filling out an efficiency report on the roosters by listening to the different tones of the bells and marking down each encounter.

Well. Uncle's favorite rooster was old Brewster, and a very fine specimen he was. But his bell did not ring at all that first morning. So Uncle finally went to investigate.
Several other roosters were chasing pullets, bells a-ringing, but Brewster had his bell in his beak so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job, and strut on to the next one.

Uncle was so proud of Brewster that he entered him in the county fair. Brewster was an overnight sensation. They not only awarded him the "No Bell Prize," but also the "Pullet Surprise."

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