Quick, Henry, The Flit!

I was sitting here thinking of my grandmother relaxing in her rocker and reciting this verse to me.

"Little Fly upon the wall,
Ain't you got no shame at all?
Ain't you got no petti skirt?
Ain't you cold?"

One I liked even more began with "Won't you come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly?" Who can forget getting her hair caught in a hanging fly strip or setting something down on a piece of flypaper lying on the table? An old proverb says that flies have their virtues but it's a bit hard to believe. I suppose they were put on this earth for some reason. Perhaps they carry pollen from one plant to another as bees do. Some flies are used by scientists in the study of heredity.

The World Book Encyclopedia states that flies are among the most dangerous pests known to man. They carry germs inside their bodies or in the hair on the body. Touching an object, they leave many germs behind. Each female fly can have as many as one thousand newborn a year. So - "Shoo, Fly, don't bother me."

When I was a child, my brothers, sisters and myself used to earn extra pocket money by swatting flies which had managed to get into the house. I heard of a customer in a restaurant who called the waitress over to his table and said, "There's a fly in here that's annoying me." The waitress immediately answered, "Just show me which one it is and I'll have it put out!"

I guess if you didn't already know, you have probably figured out that a flit was part of a popular advertisment for a spray canister you pumped to spray flys.

Our Incomparable Hildegarde

It isn't the rooster's early rising that makes him unpopular, but his continual talking about it. One year when we were raising chickens, one of them broke a leg. Dad put a splint on it and we put the hen in an empty birdcage. We called her a bick, as she was a chick living like a bird. Sometimes she sounded like she was trying to sing. She probably thought she was a canary! Our family agreed that her name should be Hildegarde - after a well-known singer of that era.
At that time, the Auburn Grange was sponsoring a contest to find the best-dressed chicken - I mean really dressed - in clothing. Mother made little white lace-trimmed pantaloons and a ruffled petticoat for our Hildegarde. Her outfit also included a red and white dress, a fancy bonnet and even a small purse which hung jauntily from the chicken's wing. Each item was lovingly cut out and sewn together by the patient hands of my mother.
When a photographer came to take Hildegarde's picture in her beautiful outfit, she stood very still atop a table and posed like a professional model. The picture appeared in the local paper, the Citizen-Advertiser - as our Incomparable Hildegarde had taken first prize!