for every fowl in
the yard twitted her with the difference between her preaching and her
practice.
Strut, the other son, was the vainest chick ever seen; and the great aim
of his life was to crow louder than any other cock in the neighbourhood.
He was at it from morning till night, and everyone was tired to death of
hearing his shrill, small voice making funny attempts to produce hoarse
little crows, as he sat on the wall and stretched his yellow neck, till
his throat quite ached with the effort.
'Ah! if I could only fly to the highest beam in the barn, and give a
splendid crow that everyone could hear, I should be perfectly happy,'
said this silly little fowl, as he stared up at the loft where the old
cock often sat.
So he tried every day to fly and crow, and at last managed to get up;
then how he did strut and rustle his feathers, while his playmates sat
below and watched him.
'You'll fall and get hurt,' said his sister Blot.
'Hold your tongue, you ugly little thing, and don't talk to me. I'm
going to crow, and can't be interrupted by any silly bit of a hen. Be
quiet, down there, and hear if I can't do it as well as daddy.'
The chicks stopped scratching and peeping, and sat in a row to hear
Strut crow. Perching himself on the beam, he tried his best, but only a
droll 'cock-a-doodle-doo' came of it, and all the chicks laughed. That
made Strut mad, and he resolved to crow, even if he killed himself doing
it. He gave an angry cluck, flapped his wings, and tried again. Alas,
alas, for poor Strut! he leaned so far forward in his frantic effort to
get a big crow out, that he toppled over and fell bump on the hard
barn-floor, killing himself instantly.
For some time after this, Mrs. Cluck kept her three remaining little
ones close to her side, watching over them with maternal care, till they
were heartily tired of her anxious cluckings. Peep and Peck were always
together, being very fond of one another. Peep was a most inquisitive
chicken, poking her head into every nook and corner, and never satisfied
till she had seen all there was to see. Peck was a glutton, eating
everything she could find, and often making herself ill by gobbling too
fast, and forgetting to eat a little gravel to help digest her food.
'Don't go out of the barn, children. I'm going to lay an egg, and can't
look after you just now,' said their mother one day.
'Yes, ma'am,' chirped the chickens; and then as she went rustling into
the ha
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