The father c.o.c.k had been killed by a dog; so they made c.o.c.ky king of the farmyard, and Peck was very jealous of him.

"I came out of the sh.e.l.l first, and I am the oldest; so I ought to be king," he said.

"But we don't like you, because you are selfish, cross, and lazy. We want c.o.c.ky; he is so lively, kind, and brave. He will make a splendid bird, and he must be our king," answered the hens; and Peck had to mind, or they would have pulled every feather out of his little tail.

He resolved to do some harm to his good brother, and plagued him all he could. One day, when c.o.c.ky was swinging with three of his sisters on a bush that hung over the brook, Peck asked a stupid donkey feeding near to come and put his heavy foot on the bush. He did it, and crack went the branch, splash went the poor chicks into the water, and all were drowned but c.o.c.ky, who flew across and was saved. Poor little Hop, Chirp, and Downy went floating down the brook like b.a.l.l.s of white foam, and were never seen again. All the hens mourned for them, and put a black feather in their heads to show how sorry they were. Mamma Partlet was heart-broken to lose three darlings at once; but c.o.c.ky comforted her, and never told how it happened, because he was ashamed to have people know what a bad bird Peck was.

A b.u.t.terfly saw it all, and he told Granny c.o.c.kletop about it; and the hens were so angry that they turned Peck out of the barnyard, and he had to go and live in the woods alone. He said he did n't care; but he did, and was very unhappy, and used to go and peep into the pleasant field where the fowls scratched and talked together. He dared not show himself, for they would have driven him out. But kind c.o.c.ky saw him, and would run with some nice bit and creep through the fence into the wood, saying,--

"Poor brother, I'm sorry for you, and I'll come and play with you, and tell you the news."

Now in this wood lived a fox, and he had been planning to eat Peck as soon as he was fat; for he missed the good corn and meal he used to have, and grew very thin living on gra.s.shoppers and berries. While he waited the sly fellow made friends with Peck, though the bird knew that foxes ate hens.

"I 'm not afraid, and I don't believe old Granny c.o.c.kletop's tales. I can take care of myself, I guess," he said, and went on playing with the fox, who got him to tell all about the hen-house,--how the door was fastened, and where the plump chickens roosted, and what time they went to bed,--so that he could creep in and steal a good supper by and by.

Silly Peck never guessed what harm he was doing, and only laughed when c.o.c.ky said,--

"You will be sorry if you play with the fox. He is a bad fellow; so be careful and sleep on a high branch, and keep out of his way, as I do."

c.o.c.ky was fat and large, and the fox longed to eat him, but never could, because he wisely ran home whenever he saw the rogue hiding in the wood.

This made Peck angry, for he wanted his brother to stay and play; and so one day, when c.o.c.ky ran off in the midst of a nice game, Peck said to the fox,--

"See here, if you want to catch that fellow, I 'll tell you how to do it. He has promised to bring me some food to-night, when all the rest are at roost. He will hide and not get shut up; then, when those cross old biddies are asleep, he will cluck softly, and I am to go in and eat all I want out of the pan. You hide on the top of the hen-house; and while he talks to me, you can pounce on him. Then I shall be the only c.o.c.k here, and they will have to make me king."

"All right," said the fox, much pleased with the plan, and very glad that Peck had a chance to get fatter.

So when it was night, Peck crept through the broken paling and waited till he heard the signal. Now, good c.o.c.ky had saved up nice bits from his own dinner, and put them in a paper hidden under a bush. He spread them all out in the barnyard and called; and Peck came in a great hurry to eat them, never stopping to say, "Thank you."

c.o.c.ky stood by talking pleasantly till a little shower came up.

"Peck, dear, put this nice thick paper over you; then you will be dry, and can go on eating. I'll step under that burdock leaf and wait till you are done," said c.o.c.ky; and Peck was too busy gobbling up the food to remember anything else.

Now the fox had just crept up on the hen-house roof; and when he peeped down, there was just light enough to see a white thing bobbing about.

"Ah, ha! that's c.o.c.kyloo; now for a good supper!" And with a jump he seized Peck by the head before he could explain the mistake.

One squawk, and the naughty bird was dead; but though the paper fell off, and the fox saw what he had done, it was too late, and he began to eat Peck up, while c.o.c.ky flew into a tree and crowed so loud that the farmer ran with his gun and shot the fox before he could squeeze through the hole in the fence with the fowl in his mouth.

After that the hens felt safe, for there were no more foxes; and when they heard about Peck they did not mourn at all, but liked c.o.c.ky better than ever, and lived happily together, with nothing to trouble them.

King c.o.c.kyloo grew to be a splendid bird,--pure white, with a tall red comb on his head, long spurs on his yellow legs, many fine feathers in his tail, and eyes that shone like diamonds. His crow was so loud that it could be heard all over the neighborhood, and people used to say, "Hark! hear Farmer Hunt's c.o.c.k crow. Is n't it a sweet sound to wake us in the dawn?" All the other c.o.c.ks used to answer him, and there was a fine matinee concert every day.

He was a good brother, and led his five little sisters all about the field, feeding, guarding, and amusing them; for mamma was lame now, and could not stir far from the yard. It was a pretty sight to see c.o.c.ky run home with a worm in his bill or a nice berry, and give it to his mother, who was very proud of her handsome son. Even old Granny c.o.c.kletop, who scolded about everything, liked him; and often said, as the hens sat scuffling in the dust,--

"A fine bird, my dears, a very fine bird, and I know he will do something remarkable before he dies."

She was right for once; and this is what he did.

One day the farmer had to go away and stay all night, leaving the old lady alone with two boys. They were not afraid; for they had a gun, and quite longed for a chance to fire it. Now it happened that the farmer had a good deal of money in the house, and some bad men knew it; so they waited for him to go away that they might steal it. c.o.c.ky was picking about in the field when he heard voices behind the wall, and peeping through a hole saw two shabby men hiding there.

"At twelve, to-night, when all are asleep, we will creep in at the kitchen window and steal the money. You shall watch on the outside and whistle if any one comes along while I 'm looking for the box where the farmer keeps it," said one man.

"You need n't be afraid; there is no dog, and no one to wake the family, so we are quite safe," said the other man; and then they both went to sleep till night came.

c.o.c.ky was much troubled, and did n't know what to do. He could not tell the old lady about it; for he could only cackle and crow, and she would not understand that language. So he went about all day looking very sober, and would not chase gra.s.shoppers, play hide-and-seek under the big burdock leaves, or hunt the cricket with his sisters. At sunset he did not go into the hen-house with the rest, but flew up to the shed roof over the kitchen, and sat there in the cold ready to scare the robbers with a loud crow, as he could do nothing else.

At midnight the men came creeping along; one stopped outside, and the other went in. Presently he handed a basket of silver out, and went back for the money. Just as he came creeping along with the box, c.o.c.ky gave a loud, long crow, that frightened the robbers and woke the boys. The man with the basket ran away in such a hurry that he tumbled into a well; the other was going to get out of the window, when c.o.c.ky flew down and picked at his eyes and flapped his wings in his face, so that he turned to run some other way, and met the boys, who fired at him and shot him in the legs. The old lady popped her head out of the upper window and rang the dinner-bell, and called "Fire! fire!" so loud that it roused the neighbors, who came running to see what the trouble could be.

They fished one man out of the well and picked up the wounded one, and carried them both off to prison.

"Who caught them?" asked the people.

"We did," cried the boys, very proud of what they had done; "but we should n't have waked if our good c.o.c.ky had not crowed, and scared the rascals. He deserves half the praise, for this is the second time he has caught a thief."

So c.o.c.ky was brought in, and petted, and called a fine fellow; and his family were so proud of him they clucked about it for weeks afterward.

When the robbers were tried, it was found that they were the men who had robbed the bank, and taken a great deal of money; so every one was glad to have them shut up for twenty years. It made a great stir, and people would go to see c.o.c.ky and tell how he helped catch the men; and he was so brave and handsome, they said at last,--

"We want a new weather-c.o.c.k on our courthouse, and instead of an arrow let us have a c.o.c.k; and he shall look like this fine fellow."

"Yes, yes," cried the young folks, much pleased; for they thought c.o.c.ky ought to be remembered in some way.

So a picture was taken, and c.o.c.ky stood very still, with his bright eye on the man; then one like it was made of bra.s.s, and put high up on the court-house, where all could see the splendid bird shining like gold, and twirling about to tell which way the wind was. The children were never tired of admiring him; and all the hens and chickens went in a procession one moonlight night to see it,--yes, even Mamma Partlet and Granny c.o.c.kletop, though one was lame and the other very old, so full of pride were they in the great honor done King c.o.c.kyloo.

This was not the end of his good deeds; and the last was the best of all, though it cost him his life. He ruled for some years, and kept his kingdom in good order; for no one would kill him, when many of the other fowls were taken for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But he did die at last; and even then he was good and brave, as you shall hear.

One of the boys wanted to smoke a pipe, and went behind the hen-house, so n.o.body should see him do such a silly thing. He thought he heard his father coming, and hid the pipe under the house. Some straw and dry leaves lay about, and took fire, setting the place in a blaze; for the boy ran away when he saw the mischief he had done, and the fire got to burning nicely before the cries of the poor hens called people to help.

The door was locked, and could not be opened, because the key was in the pocket of the naughty boy; so the farmer got an axe and chopped down the wall, letting the poor biddies fly out, squawking and smoking.

"Where is c.o.c.ky?" cried the other boy, as he counted the hens and missed the king of the farmyard.

"Burnt up, I 'm afraid," said the farmer, who was throwing water on the flames.

Alas! yes, he was; for when the fire was out they found good old c.o.c.ky sitting on a nest, with his wide wings spread over some little chicks whose mother had left them. They were too small to run away, and sat chirping sadly till c.o.c.ky covered and kept them safe, though the smoke choked _him_ to death.

Every one was very sorry; and the children gave the good bird a fine funeral, and buried him in the middle of the field, with a green mound over him, and a white stone, on which was written,--

Here lies the bravest c.o.c.k that ever crew: We mourn for him with sorrow true.

Now nevermore at dawn his music shall we hear, Waking the world like trumpet shrill and clear.

The hens all hang their heads, the chickens sadly peep; The boys look sober, and the girls all weep.

Good-by, dear c.o.c.ky: sleep and rest.

With gra.s.s and daisies on your faithful breast; And when you wake, brave bird, so good and true, Clap your white wings and crow, "c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The lion walked awhile to rest himself.--PAGE 118.]