172 My Flannel Rooster.

“Do you call that a crow, young person?
Because / call it ridiculous, and must beg you to
be silent, if that is the best you can do.”

I was so surprised that for a minute I just
looked at him and couldn’t say one word, then I
began:

“But, Rooster, I did n’t know before that
roosters could talk.”

“Well,” said he, they can’t usually; in fact, I
suppose I am the first one who ever did talk, but
I positively could not keep still while you were
making such an absurd noise. It is enough to
make any rooster talk to hear you.” Here he
yawned. “TI beg your pardon, Margaret, but Iam
veiy tired. I had to get upso early this morning—
you know we roosters are obliged to be up by day-
break. I often try to make you get up too,” and
here he looked so sternly at me that I really felt
frightened, ‘“‘but”’ continued he, “it is of no use
and I always have to comb my own feathers and
get myself ready.”

‘But, Rooster,” said I, “how can you comb
your feathers ?”