大象传媒

My father brought home one day 13 chickens although because one was lame, we decided to name this one special chicken, Long John Silver. This was in 1940 when I was about six years old. We kept these chicks in the smallest room in the house, one of the bedrooms, until my father made a run for them in the garden. We must have kept them for about a year, but they were destined for the pot for christmas. We would get scraps from the neighbours to feed them. When they started laying, we used to distribute the eggs to the people who helped us feed them.
There was approx half Cockrels and half hens. The first christmas, we disposed of most of the Cockrels, one or two for ourselves and the rest to the neighbours. My father had got these chickens from London where he used to work. But the only Cockrel we kept was Long John Silver which my mother refused to let him be put down. She obviously took a soft spot to him because he was lame and 'the odd one out'!
The next easter, we decided to have a real feast, unfortunately it was time for Long John to be disposed off. My mother cried when she was putting him the oven, however the tears suddendly disappeared when lunch was served!

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