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When papa & Granpa would
go down to work she
would let there chickens
out into our garden. Some
of them were prize chickens
because they had taken
prizes in Rochester &
Severel fairs. Well
one day papa went over
there & told her that
he had stood enough
& tole her for about the
6th time not to let them
in our yard. She wouldnt
do it & let them in 3 or 4
times & then papa went
over & told her if they
came over in our
garden he would
kill them. So he
borrowed Ed reeds
rifle & got some cartrages
& then he went down-town
& then mrs sweet let the
chickens out in our
garden & Mamma phoned
up papa & he came up
& took the rifle & went
in the sewing room
& put a cartrage &
aimed at a chickens &
hit it in the gizzard
& killed it then he
went out & threw it
over the fence & shot
another & threw it
over the fence & he
kept that up till he had
killed 7 & It dawned
upon Mrs. sweet that
if she didn't want
any more chickens shot
she would come out
& get the remains of
the brood. Some of them
might have been prize
chickens but they looked
just alike to pop.

It is colder today.