He never really needed to know the farmers’ names; his mother was the expert there. That’s Rufus, he knocked up the dark-haired scullery maid, you know, Mariah, the one who always puts too much pepper on everything? They’re marrying in the spring, we’ll send her fabric for a dress. Oh, and you remember Old Donald, if he ever has a nice word to say about anything you know it’s the End Times. Good with chickens, though. Hens’ll lay for him like nobody else.
Old Donald and the chicks
