Betty MacDonald nicely captured my memories of growing up on a farm before electric power was connected. Some of the narrative was idealized (living between neighbors falling at two behavioral extremes), but she got the raw parts right. Humor was what made things bearable.
Chickens are not bright but they do have standards. One is pecking order. I used to confound them by dropping a big pile of feed in front of the chicken at the bottom of the pecking order and watch her struggle with an ethical dilemma until the top hens rushed over and took their share. How many people could do this?