<SPAN name="r3537" id="r3537"></SPAN>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</SPAN></span>
<h2>VI</h2><h3>HENRIETTA COMPLAINS</h3></div>
<p>There was another member of Farmer Green's flock, besides Henrietta Hen,
that was proud. Nobody needed to look twice at the Rooster to tell that
he had an excellent opinion of himself. He had a way of walking about
the farmyard that said quite plainly that he believed himself to be a
person of great importance. And it was true that things went according
to his ideas, among the flock.</p>
<p>He was always spoken of as "the Rooster." For although there were other
roosters in the flock, they were both younger and smaller than he, and
he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</SPAN></span> would never permit anybody to call them—in his hearing—anything
but cockerels.</p>
<p>These cockerels usually took great pains to keep out of the Rooster's
way. If they were careless, and he caught them napping, he was more than
likely to make matters unpleasant for them. He knew how to make their
feathers fly.</p>
<p>Now, Henrietta Hen thought that the Rooster behaved in a most silly
fashion. She said it pained her to see him prancing about, with his two
long, arched tail-feathers nodding as he walked. The truth was,
Henrietta could not endure it to have any one more elegantly dressed
than she. And there was no denying that the Rooster's finery outshone
everybody else's. Why, he wore a comb on his head that was even bigger
than Henrietta's! And he had spurs, too, for his legs.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>But what Henrietta Hen disliked most about the Rooster was the way he
crowed each morning. It wasn't so much the <i>kind</i> of crowing that he
indulged in; it was rather the early hour he chose for it that annoyed
Henrietta. He always began his <i>Cockle-doodle-doo</i> while it was yet
dark. Then everybody in the henhouse had to wake up, whether he wanted
to or not. And Henrietta Hen did wish the Rooster would keep still at
least till daylight came. She often remarked that it was perfectly
ridiculous for any one from a fine family—as she was—to get up at such
an unearthly hour. She said it was a wonder she kept her good looks,
just on account of the Rooster's crowing.</p>
<p>"Why don't you ask him to wait until it's light, before he begins to
crow?" Polly Plymouth Rock asked Henrietta one day.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I'll do it!" cried Henrietta. Right then she called to one of the
cockerels, who was near-by. "Just skip across the yard and ask the
Rooster—" she began.</p>
<p>The cockerel broke right in upon her message.</p>
<p>"Oh! I can't do that!" he exclaimed. "I've never gone up to the Rooster
and spoken to him. If I did, he'd be sure to fight me."</p>
<p>"Just tell him that I sent you," said Henrietta. And she made the
cockerel listen to her message. But he wouldn't be persuaded. He told
Henrietta that the Rooster would be sure to jump at him the moment he
opened his mouth. "Besides," he added, "it wouldn't do any good, anyhow.
The Rooster can't wait until after daylight, before he begins to crow."</p>
<p>"He can't, eh?" Henrietta Hen spoke up somewhat sharply. "I'd like to
know<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</SPAN></span> the reason why!" And fixing her gaze sternly upon the Rooster, she
marched straight across the farmyard towards him, to find out.</p>
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