After a while they got plumb to enjoyin' it.

When you come right down to it, a chicken don't have many amusements and relaxations in this life.

Searchin' for worms, chasin' grasshoppers, and wallerin' in the dust is about the limits of joys for chickens.
It was sure a fine sight to see 'em after they got well into the game.
About nine o'clock every mornin' they would saunter down to the rise of the road where they would wait patient until a machine came along.

Then it would warm your heart to see the enthusiasm of them.

With, exultant cackles of joy they'd trail in, reachin' out like quarter-horses, their wings half spread out, their eyes beamin' with delight.