, the
two confronted each other.

But courage now deserted the heart of the white hen, and she fled.

"Cray--cray--cray," she screamed; "there'll be bloodshed,
cray--cray--cray!"

"Have you made your will?" cried the white king, fiercely. "Are you
prepared for a watery grave?"

"As to my will," replied the dark king, "there'll be plenty of time
to think about that when you're dead. As to the watery grave, I'm
quite ready for it, as soon as I meet any one who has the strength
and courage to send me there. It won't be you."

"You may imagine yourself dead already," roared the white king. "Your
body will go floating down the mill-stream, and there won't be a
feather of you left together an hour after this--the frogs and fish
will eat you."

[Illustration: "COME ON AND FIGHT IF YOU DARE."]

"Fish and frogs!" cried King Creve, "fiddlesticks! Come on and fight
if you dare. I'll give you leave to strike the first blow."

Then the white cock grew very sentimental.

"I don't really want to kill you," he said; "it seems a pity."

"Can nought but blood our feud atone,
Are there no means?"
"No, stranger, none!"

"Now just look here," said the dark king. "What _are_ you talking
about? If you mean to fight--fight. If you don't mean to fight--go
over the fence again."

"But I want to have something to say to you," cried King Albus.

"Well then, out with it. I'm not going to stand here palavering all
day, with my feathers up like a ruffed grouse. I'm catching cold, I
am. I'll go to work to warm myself presently, and it will be a bad
thing for you when I do."

"What d'ye mean by being bigger than me, then?" said the white cock.

"Oh! that's your grievance, is it?"

"Yes, and what d'ye mean by crowing louder every morning, and wearing
that silly old plume on top o' your poll, and those stupid long spurs
on your heels, eh?"

"Anything else?"

"Ye-s--What d'ye mean by having more oats to eat than me? And more
hens to walk about and sing to ye, eh?"

"Oh! You envious silly old thing, you," cried King Creve. "Go home at
once, and learn to live a better life, do."

"Not till I've killed King Cur."

SITUATION FOURTH AND LAST.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

They were at it now spur and bill. The sound of the blows went
echoing all over the farmyards where they lived. Whack! Whack! Whack!
Dear me, how the feathers flew!

"My brave!" cried the fat old hen, "I never thought there was so much
courage in him be