Auntie Doris’s Twelve Days of Christmas. #3: Three French Hens

 

3rdPersonally I have nothing against the French. They are perfectly nice people. Obviously they are partial to a bit of ooh la la, but aren’t we all, when it comes to the crunch. There is only one thing that I can’t abide about them and that is their thinking that they are better than the rest of us. They are worse than the ruddy Americans for it. Well I’ve got news for them, their mustard is rubbish and they are no better at polishing than we are. I have no idea why they would think that they make better ticklers than we do, and to be honest, we have been putting our tongues in each others mouths since well before Charlemagne was crowned the Holy Roman Emperor. So there! Mettre ça dans votre pipe et fumez-le. So considering all that, it stands to reason that French hens are no ruddy better than the Hens that we have got over here. So anybody getting you three of them for Christmas would be wasting their money. Also, you wouldn’t get much in the way of eggs out of them unless you had a rooster, and I don’t see any mention of a french rooster to go with them. No. Perhaps this is because the bearer of the french hens knows that there is no substitute for a good English cock. I wouldn’t let anything other than a good strong English cock near my poultry anyway. Or I wouldn’t have, if I had kept Poultry. I didnt need to. I got all my eggs from Herbert Field at Stump Cross Farm. He had a fine cock, which he showed me many a time. He often asked if I was interested in breeding, and offered to give me a Dorking to set me off, on more than one occasion. Of course I turned him down. There was no way I could keep a cock in the house only to end up chopping its head off and eating it. I’m soft hearted when it comes to business like that. If you have the sort of true love that will insist on ornithological themed presents at this time of year, tell him to get you something you can actually make use of, such as some birds custard to put on your plum pudding. Uncle Raymond’s Christmas Cracker Cackle of the Day “She was only the occultists daughter, but she wouldn’t believe me when I said that it was ectoplasm slathered all over the contents of her knickers drawer”

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