fore!"

"Wait a bit," cried the saucy young one. "Plumes will give him a
lesson presently."

"Plumes won't," shrieked the other.

"Plumes _will_" roared the young one. And lo! and behold those two
hens got fighting behind the fence--so foolish of them--and thus
there were two battles raging at one and the same time.

Now sometimes, right is might, but in this case right and might were
both on the same side. For King Albus had no business to be so
envious and jealous of his neighbour, simply because he was better
than he; and he was certainly very wrong to invade his territory. If
he had only stayed at home, and been content with his own
surroundings, he might have lived and been happy for many a long day.

To do the white king justice, however, he fought well. Though a
coward at heart, now that he found himself really engaged, he knew
that to give in would mean being trodden to death under the feet of
his foe. So he fought on and on.

Both shortly paused for breath, and the white king began turning over
the gravel with his bill, as if looking for a grub or two. This was
merely a pretence, in order to gain time, and the dark king knew that
well enough.

"Don't be silly," he said, tantalisingly, "grubs don't grow in the
gravel. I don't believe you could swallow a grub if you had one. Go
home now, and come back again when your poor old head is healed."

"I'll heal you!" roared King Albus, "I'll grub you!"

Then the battle re-commenced with re-doubled fury.

But it did not last much longer. The dark king watched his chance,
and bringing all his strength to bear on one blow, sent his adversary
sprawling and roaring for mercy right into the mill-stream.

Then he jumped nimbly on top of him and crowed.

[Illustration: "ROARING FOR MERCY."]

His weight sank his foe, he gave a gasp or two, then away he floated
still and quiet enough, while the dark king jumped on shore, and
coolly began to re-arrange his ruffled plumage, his two hens soon
returning to admire him.

"I told you," cried the young hen, "that Plumes would kill him."

"Ah! well," said the fat old hen, "such things will happen, you know.
It can't be helped. It's a pity, of course. But he was always rather
haughty and overbearing, and envious too; and if there is one feeling
more distasteful to me than another it is _Envy_."

ARION.

LITTLE MARGARET'S KITCHEN, AND WHAT SHE DID IN IT.--XI.

_By_ Phillis Browne, _Author of "A Year's Cooker