ely dissimilar as to genus and
species, were always together. If "One Lung" (the cock) took it into his
head to go into the garden and flew over the fence, "Chung" (the drake)
would solemnly waddle to a certain hole in the fence well known to
himself, and, by dint of much pushing with his strong, yellow feet,
would squeeze himself through, and rejoin his companion with many a
guttural quack and flirt of his tail. If "Chung" desired to take a bath,
he would make for the brook, where "One Lung" would soon join him,
always remaining, however, on the bank, where he would strut about and
crow continuously. On one occasion, a chicken-hawk attacked the cock,
which, though it defended itself valiantly, was in great danger of being
destroyed. The drake soon became aware of what was happening, and hurled
himself, with many a squawking quack, like a white avalanche against the
hawk, and, with one quick blow of his horny, flat bill, laid this pirate
of the air dead at his feet! He then examined the cock, with low-voiced
exclamations issuing from his throat all the while. Then, finding him
uninjured, he flapped his wings and quacked loud and long, as if in
thankfulness. As for "One Lung," he pecked the dead hawk several times,
then hopped up on its body and crowed as loud as he could, as if to say,
"Look-what-I-have-do-o-o-ne!"

"One Lung" was taken to a neighboring farm for breeding purposes by his
owner, and "Chung" moped and appeared utterly inconsolable during his
absence. When the bantam was finally brought home, the drake recognized
him "afar off" and came hurrying to meet him with flapping wings and
much vociferation. He caressed him with his bill, and appeared to make a
close examination of his person. These birds have always passed the
night close together, the bantam roosting among the branches of a low
bush, while his faithful companion squatted on the ground at its root.

Several years ago I knew a hen which was devotedly attached to an old
white horse. When the horse was confined to the stable, the hen was
always to be found in his stall, either in the manger, on the floor, or
perched upon his back. This last position was a favorite one, and it was
only abandoned when the hen was in search of food. When the horse was
out on pasture, the hen went with him and stayed close beside him until
nightfall, when she always returned and roosted on one of the stall
partitions.

Many cow owners of my town are in the habit of turn