Cornell University Library 
 PZ 8.L722 1863 
 
 The life and adventures of Chanticleer, 
 
 3 1924 014 519 080 
 
 MEMORIAL POULTRY LIBRARY. 
 
 CORNELL 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 ■tHE Gljf Of 
 
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CONTENTS. 
 
 Intkoduction to the Little Ones 7 
 
 Inteobtjction to the Aditlts 9 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 Chanticleer's BiEXHrLACE U 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Mks. Biddy's Adtenittre with a Fox. — What sad Work 
 
 HE made among the Potjliry 15 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Mrs. Biddy's Second ADVENTtrKE, with a SKrNK. — Shb 
 loses all HER Eggs but one, and finally receives 
 Assistance to protect her from her Enemies. . . 18 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Chanticleer's Birth 21 
 
 (3) 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mbs. Biddy has a Geand Paktt, to cblebsate the Occa- 
 sion or NAMING HEK ChILD 24 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Chanticleer's Cheldhood. — His eikst Disobedience and 
 
 Punishment 29 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Chanticieee leaens to bead 31 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 What he leaens and obseeves dueing his Walks with 
 
 his Mamma 35 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Chanticleee's Complaint to his Mothee about the Evils 
 which he obseeves all about him. — His Mothek's 
 Advice 37 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Chanticleee leaens to weite, and addeesses a Letter 
 
 to his Mothee 40 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 His Youth. — He leaens how to deaw. — His eeuitless 
 
 Effoets to leaen how to sing 42 
 
CONTENTS. 5 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Chanticleer studies Akithmetic 45 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Chanticleek saves a little Bihd feom deowning, and 
 
 COUKAGEOrSLY COMES TO A ChICKEn's ReSCTJE. ... 47 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Chanticleek's Yoxtth. — He goes to. College, and applies 
 
 himsele well to his studies. tlie doctok advises 
 
 him not to study so haed, axd to be moderate in 
 ALL Things 50 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Chanticleeb stakts ON A Journey. — He is taken sick in 
 
 New Orleans, and writes a Letter to his Mother. 53 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Chanticleer returns Home. — He relates his Adven- 
 tures. — Mr. Gander is impudent, and is reproved. 56 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Mrs. Biddy's Death. — Chanticleer's Marriage. — He is 
 
 A DUTiEUL Husband and Father 60 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Two Adventures with Mr. Fox, whose Schemes are 
 
 deeeated 63 
 
6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NAtTGHTT ChILD. ■^— SaD CoNSEQTTENCES OF HIS WlLITMiTESS. 66 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Chanticieeb and his Family eieb erom the Village at 
 
 THE ApPBOACH op SoLDEESS, 'WHO THREATEN TO TAKE 
 
 theik Lives. — Thet dikect theie Steps to Cambeidge. 69 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Adtentttees op theie Jottenet. — Thet aee eeightened 
 wiTHOiTT Cause. — Thet eeach Cambeidge. — A kind 
 Welcome .71 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 A Dancing Besle. ^— Thet sttddenlt depaet poe Home. . 77 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Theie joTPrL Retitbn. — Chanticleee's Children maeet. 
 — His Adtice to them to be Inditsteiotjs and to be 
 United 80 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 The good Deeds op his Gkandchildeen. — Which one 
 
 deseeted to eeceite the Peeciotts Diamond. . . .85 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 Chanticleee's Death and Funeeal. — The End. ... 91 
 
mXRODUCTION 
 
 TO THE LITTLE ONES. 
 
 Come, children dear, both great and small ; 
 I've 'something here 'twill please you all — 
 A little book, where you may read 
 Of many a worthy, noble deed. 
 And learn to make of Chanticleer 
 A pattern for your conduct here. 
 His good example, when a child. 
 Should make you all both brave and mild. 
 I will teU you much that you'll like to hear 
 Of his studies and travels far and near. 
 And what he has done, and heard, and seen. 
 In all the places he has been. 
 
8 TO THE LITTLE ONES. 
 
 When very small his affectionate mother 
 
 Early taught him and his plajonates to love one another; 
 
 How his talents to use, and his time to spend 
 
 In virtue's ways, till life should end ; 
 
 So that no sad, regretful sigh 
 
 Should mar his peace, when he came to die. 
 
 Now, with his friends, we'U follow him to his grave. 
 
 And then we'll resolve to be as brave, 
 
 And as good, and as generous as he. 
 
 Our lives from naughty acts as free. 
 
 Now read this little book, my dear, 
 
 And learn to be like Chanticleer. 
 
INTEODUCTION 
 
 TO THE ADULTS, 
 
 
 To you wlio understand still better 
 
 The spirit Md beneath the letter, — 
 
 Tou, who with children have been blessed, 
 
 To you these lines are now addressed. 
 
 Tou know the parents' mission is 
 
 To weed and prune, with watchfulness 
 
 As sleepless as the eye of time, 
 
 Each little sin, each germ of crime. 
 
 I know how weighty is the part 
 
 To train the garden of the heart, — 
 
 To plant the little plastic mind. 
 
 Which Heaven has to your charge consigned, 
 
10 TO THE ADULTS. 
 
 With seed that shines on virtue's roll, 
 
 And blooms forever in the soul. 
 
 In plajrful mood I have tried to teach, 
 
 And make our Booster's conduct preach. 
 
 Lessons of virtue, goodness, worth. 
 
 To aid your holy task on earth; 
 
 And pleased shall be, if, in your need, 
 
 I've helped to plant that heavenly seed, 
 
 That bears the palm in earthly strife. 
 
 And yields the fruit of endless life. 
 
 Then speed you forth, my little book, 
 
 To house, and cot, and hidden nook, 
 
 Where a child may be found to please and instruct, 
 
 Or forward and upward its steps to conduct 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 CHANTICLEER. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHANTICtEER'S BIRTHPLACE. 
 
 Not far from a fine village stood 
 
 A fanner's house and land, 
 On one side bounded by a wood 
 
 Of oaks and maples grand. 
 Close by the barn, a brook so clean 
 
 Ran, singing on its way, 
 WHle, in the bam, there might be seen 
 * The cattle, sheep, and hay. 
 
12 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 But, first of all, the cottage neat 
 
 We'll visit, and the inmates greet. 
 
 Here we see the fanner, an industrious man. 
 
 With his thrifty wife, and their smart little son, 
 
 The waiting maid and little Lizzy, 
 
 And John, who is chopping wood, so busy. 
 
 The six the family comprise. 
 
 And all around looks neat and nice. 
 
 As all of them we now have seen, 
 
 And as you have good children been, 
 
 We'll go to the ample barnyard now, 
 
 And bid " Good morning " to the cow. 
 
 And view the oxen, sheep, and hens. 
 
 The squealing pigs, shut in their pens. 
 
 The frisking calves, that gaze and stare. 
 
 Frightened to see us enter there; 
 
 But we do not mean to harm them at all. 
 
 And now let us give the stable a call. 
 
 It contains a fine horse, with a mule by his side. 
 
 But they only use the horse when they take a ride. 
 
or CHANTICLEER. 13 
 
 Take note of these lambs with snow-white fleece, 
 These pretty pigeons and cackling geese. 
 Now let us call the poultry round, 
 By scattering corn upon the ground. 
 Here come the turkeys, who, with their noise, 
 Try to frighten little girls and boys; 
 But, like some people seen around. 
 Their boasting loud all ends in sound. 
 See how red they are growing, and angry, 
 Because robin, who also is hungry, 
 Takes his share of the food 
 Scattered round for their brood ; 
 But as they never were better taught, 
 They will not do just as they ought: 
 Each seeks his selfishness to feed, 
 Eegardless of his neighbor's need. 
 Such acts, though fitting them aright, 
 In you would be a sorry sight. 
 Now come with me close to the pig-pen. 
 To see the wee-chicks of this guinea hen ; 
 2 
 
14 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Those bantams there are pretty, too; 
 
 But longer I cannot stay with you. 
 
 But stop! we must certainly give a look 
 
 To the peacock there, standing by the brook, 
 
 "With his handsome tail spread out so wide, 
 
 Basking in the sunshine of his pride. 
 
 Just turn to greet Rover, whose kennel is there 
 
 And who over aU of them feels watchful care. 
 
 Now somewhat acquainted you have become 
 
 With the inmates of this pleasant home. 
 
 Mrs. Biddy, among the rest, lived here, 
 
 Who was to be the mother of Chanticleer. 
 
OP CHANTICLEER. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MRS. BEDDY's ADATENTURE WITH A FOX. — 'WHAT SAD WORK 
 HE MADE AMONG THE POULTRY. 
 
 Winter had gone : 'twas tlie beginning of spring, 
 
 When sweet little birds begin to sing; 
 
 We had all bid " Good by " to ice and snow ; 
 
 The sun shone with a brighter glow, 
 
 And bade, with its warmth, the leaves to come forth ; 
 
 The grass and sweet flowers it called into birth; 
 
 The hens began their eggs to lay, 
 
 And cackled merrily all the day. 
 
 One night — it was an oversight — : 
 
 The hen-house door was not shut tight; 
 
 When every one was sound asleep, — 
 
 Even Hover forgot safe watch to keep, — 
 
 And thus you can see, at a single glance. 
 
 How it came that Mr. Fox had a fine chance 
 
16 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 To steal himself into the stable, 
 
 And carry o£f all he was able. 
 
 Quick work he made in killing all 
 
 Who happened in his way to fall. 
 
 The biggest rooster, with his seven sons, 
 
 The Shanghai hen, with her twelve little ones, 
 
 And six other hens, he carried off. 
 
 And met not with the slightest rebuff. 
 
 As morning dawned, you can think what a fright 
 
 Was caused, when discovered in what a sad plight 
 
 Master Fox had contrived the hen-roost to put: 
 
 Feathers here and thete, all covered with blood; 
 
 Five dead little chickens laid about the floor, 
 
 Which he left when he heard some noise near the door. 
 
 It was no illusion. 
 
 0, what a confusion! 
 
 The woman screamed, the farmer swore; 
 
 The children mourned their loss still more; 
 
 The man and the servant-girl, I need not say 
 
 How much they got scolded the whole "blessed day. 
 
OP CHANTICLEER. 17 
 
 And all felt mad with the wily thief, 
 
 Who had caused them all this trouble and grief. 
 
 Had he been caught, 'tis not hard to guess 
 
 He would at once have been put to death. 
 
 But what was the use of growing so mad ? 
 
 The damage was done, and, though rather bad, 
 
 'Tis folly to blame and scold these creatures. 
 
 Who from God received their different natures. 
 
 "But hark! what moves there under that straw? 
 
 Why, 'tis oiur pet hen, if ever I saw! 
 
 You were fortunate indeed, with your life to escape ; 
 
 Hid away so snugly, it was done in good shape. 
 
 Good morning, good morning, dear Mrs. Biddj-." 
 
 More pleased they felt than if they'd won a city. 
 
 The children ran to get her some food. 
 
 And praised her for being so wise and good; 
 
 Of straw they brought the sweetest and best, 
 
 To buUd her the very nicest nest; 
 
 And her motherly qualities at once to test, 
 
 They placed flvelve fresh eggs under her warm breast, 
 9 * 
 
18 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 To sit on and raise them another brood, 
 To train and bring up to be useful and good; 
 Whilst to John was given the task to supply 
 Her with food and drink three times a day. 
 Every care they'd take of the afflicted mother, 
 Left sole alone, without husband or brother. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MRS. biddy's second ADVENTURE, WITH A SKUNK. — SHE 
 LOSES ALL HER EGGS BUT ONE, AND FINALLY RECEIVES 
 ASSISTANCE TO PROTECT HER FROM HER ENEMIES. 
 
 And now Mrs. Biddy sat, day and night. 
 Brooding over her eggs, so still and quiet. 
 She had almost forgot the fright and grief 
 Which the fox had caused — that remdftseless thief— 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 19 
 
 When she saw, one night, how, through a small hole 
 
 Near the door, a black-looking creature stole. 
 
 She had barely time to jump up and flee, 
 
 When he pounced on her nest. 'Twas a skunk, you see. 
 
 Who was going to treat himself to a feast; 
 
 And finding the hen gone, tliought he would, at least. 
 
 Have the eggs. No sooner ^bought than done; 
 
 He quick went to work and carried off one ; 
 
 To what place you wotild like to have learned; 
 
 It couldn't have been far, for he soon returned, 
 
 Another and another to carry away; 
 
 And I think I may safely venture to say. 
 
 That, no doubt, he would have had them all, 
 
 Had Topsy not heard the poor hen's call. 
 
 How relieved she felt to see her rushing in. 
 
 And to see the skunk run to save his sldn! 
 
 Poor Mrs. Biddy even now hardly dared 
 
 To return to her nest, she was so scared. 
 
 You may imagine how sad she felt. 
 
 When but one egg in her nest she beheld; 
 
20 THE LIFE AND ADVBNTTJEES 
 
 Yet to forsake this lone one, she was too Idnd and just, 
 
 So she went back once more to sit on her empty nest, 
 
 And quietly sat there till morning light 
 
 Eevealed to the household the sorry sight. 
 
 0, what a hue and cry was made again. 
 
 Once more to have such a loss to sustain! 
 
 And all were moved to ^ see Mrs. Biddy 
 
 Flap her wings so sadly; 'twas a great pity! 
 
 With tearful eyes, she begged them all 
 
 To spare no pains in fastening the stall. 
 
 And look with care after every hole and crack. 
 
 To secure her against any future attack; 
 
 For, in the next strife. 
 
 She might lose her life. 
 
 " Through many long nights, I've watched o'er my nest, 
 
 And now, believe me, I need a little rest." 
 
 Thus spoke poor Mrs. Biddy, 
 
 And moved all hearts with pity. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CHANTICLEEES BIRTH. 
 
 Then all went to work, without further delay, 
 
 To secure the hen-house in every way 
 
 Every hole was fastened up with care ; 
 
 They wished neither time nor labor to spare, 
 
 To give rest and comfort to the poor creature, 
 
 And keep all her foes at bay for the future. 
 
 Now that the good hen's peace was secured. 
 
 She sat undisturbed till her chick matured. 
 
 When the egg broke, and it came to light, 
 
 How great was then the hen's delight! 
 
 To see her little chick so pretty and healthy 
 
 Gave her more bliss than to've become very wealthy. 
 
 No fault in her darling could she detect; 
 
 To the mother's fond eye her child was perfect. 
 
22 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 'Twas pleasure to see it so lively and fat, 
 
 And yet so weak and delicate. 
 
 In place of a mouth, it had a biU, 
 
 Which it could open and close at will; 
 
 And quite astonishing it was, she thought, 
 
 That a good appetite at once it brought. 
 
 On its little head — 'twould have pleased you well 
 
 To see— i there was hanging a bit of egg-shell. 
 
 'Twas John again, as before, who told 
 
 The new advent to the whole household; 
 
 And aU of them ran to the hen-house apace, 
 
 To view, with their own eyes, the truth of the case. 
 
 And, sure enough, there was the little fellow — 
 
 His tiny feathers tipped brown and yellow ; 
 
 They aU saw his bill, and his wings by his side, 
 
 His two little feet to walk with a stride, 
 
 A "spur at his feet, besides his four toes, 
 
 Bright eyes to see with, but not any nose. 
 
 Tenderly loved Biddy the wee little thing. 
 
 Covering it gently under her warm wing. 
 
And all of them ran to the hen-house apace, 
 
 To view with their own eyes the truth of the case. 
 
or CHANTICLEER. _ 23 
 
 So that it seemed as if it laid 
 
 Upon a nicely made up bed, 
 
 And, like all children, loved to rest 
 
 Close to its loving mother's breast. 
 
 She'd lost aU desire to. go out and roam; 
 
 Like all tender mothers, she staid at home, 
 
 To take the best care of her little pet. 
 
 And keep watch that none should hurt him or fret, 
 
 WhUst she carefully selected aU his food. 
 
 And gave hiTn only what was healthy and good. 
 
24 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTEK V. 
 
 MBS. BIDDY HAS A GRAND PARTY, TO CELEBRATE THE OCCASION 
 OF NAMING HER CHILD. 
 
 As now the chicken was growing older, 
 Increasing in size, it also grew bolder; 
 Yet its mother kept close by its side, 
 Its inexperienced footsteps to guide. 
 The cunning little doll was so pretty a sight, 
 That to see it every one took much delight; 
 And the neighbors' fowls often flew over the wall, 
 To make Mother Biddy a friendly ca;ll, 
 Though over a high fence to climb they had. 
 Pleased with the chicken was even the cat; 
 The turkeys, too, the geese, and the dog. 
 The oxen, the horse, the mule, and the hog. 
 And Biddy, when she saw how every one 
 Took such interest in her little son, 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 25 
 
 * 
 
 Thought no time nor labor she would spare, 
 To bring him up with the greatest care. 
 "He shall be well educated and learned, 
 TiU the name of being a wise rooster he's earned : 
 Yes, he shall even to college go, 
 To learn there all there is to know. 
 And now my child must have a name : 
 The best way for reaching this aim 
 Will be, to invite all mj friends, and, at least, 
 A few strangers, too, to give" them a feast 
 In celebration 
 Of the occasion ; 
 When two of them 
 Shall choose a name. 
 I wiE endeavor, as far as I'm able, 
 To place before them a well-spread table." 
 The news quickly spread, and it was amusing 
 To see them flock in, leaving no time for choosing. 
 Many robins and swallows fle-vy down from the trees; 
 The ducks soon followed suit, as also the geese. 
 3 
 
26 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJRES 
 
 The doves left their pigeon-house, one and all; 
 The turkeys and fowls, too, answered the call. 
 Of blackbirds and martins there were some ; 
 The peacock even thought fit to come ; 
 "WhUst lo! there comes, with slow and measured step, 
 The proud gold-pheasant of neighbor Guiseppe. 
 Mrs. Biddy gave all a pleasant greeting, 
 And hoped they would all enjoy their meeting. 
 Then she gave each at her table a seat. 
 And placed before them,- to drink and to eat, 
 Just as much as they wanted of the nice fare 
 Which she had prepared with great skiU and care. 
 The yard, house, and cellar had yielded their store, 
 Till on the table there was room for no more. 
 AU had brought along a good appetite. 
 And every one of them seemed satisfied. 
 When right in^the height of their enjoyment, 
 Biddy arose and bowed to all present; 
 Gracefully lifting up one of her feet. 
 She thus began her company to greet: 
 
It you are ijloased to accept tlio same, ;! - --.. 
 
 I'lay cliuoic for mv dear child ii nanie. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 27 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen, you are all aware 
 
 That, when to the family is born an heir. 
 
 It has always been an honored custom. 
 
 To invite aU one's friends to come, 
 
 Without regard to their name or station. 
 
 To grace with their presence the joyful occasion 
 
 Of choosing for the child a na^me. 
 
 And shouldn't I do the very same 
 
 By my child — my only one, you know?" 
 
 And there was not one who would say, "No," — 
 
 For all agreed with her on the point. 
 
 "You think as I do," she then rejoined. 
 
 "I, therefore, without farther delay, 
 
 WUl proceed with what I have to say. 
 
 For godfather, Mr. Peacock I choose ; 
 
 And godmother shall be my friend, Mrs. Goose. 
 
 If you are pleased to accept the same. 
 
 Please 'to choose for my dear child a name." 
 
 As soon as Mrs. Biddy had retaken her chair, 
 
 Mr. Peacock arose with a dignified air; 
 
28 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJKES 
 
 Spreading out his tail with great parade, 
 
 He walked up to Mother Goose, and said, 
 
 "Mrs. Biddy has asked us a name to choose 
 
 For her dear child; and I'll not refuse. 
 
 If you also think best. 
 
 To fulfil her request." 
 
 She consented, and .both walked up to where 
 
 The hostess was sitting in her chair; 
 
 And bowing with due reverence. 
 
 He thanked her for her preference. 
 
 And said, "On a name we'll agree, without much ado, — 
 
 We'll name him ' Chanticleer,' if it pleases you. 
 
 It was his father's name, and, if I remember right, 
 
 That of his grandsire, too." Then, "Hurrah," they all 
 
 cried. 
 Then they kissed the child, and retreated 
 To the place where they had been seated. 
 And "Chanticleer," he was called by all 
 Of those who knew him, both great and small. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 29 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 chanticleer's childhood. — HIS FIRST DISOBEDIENCE AND 
 PUNISHMEST. 
 
 AxD now Mother Biddy in earnest begun 
 
 To direct and instruct her dear little son 
 
 What to choose for his drink, where to find his food, 
 
 And early to distinguish the bad from the good, — 
 
 How far he might run, and where to abide, — 
 
 Whom to mistrust, and m whom to confide. 
 
 She led him through the barn, and the yard all over. 
 
 And they went to the meadow, all covered with clover; 
 
 But you may depend that she never was found 
 
 In the garden, or upon the cultivated ground. 
 
 As some mischievous hens would do; 
 
 But Mrs. Biddy much better knew: 
 
 She carefully taught his youthful mind 
 
 To keep from evil of every kind. 
 
so THE LIFE AND ADVENTrUES 
 
 But one day, wlien the hen wasn't near to prevent it, 
 Young Chanticleer felt himself very much tempted 
 To steal into the garden of a neighbor. 
 And eat of the fruit, raised with much labor. 
 Of currants he ate the ripest and best; 
 But feeling guilty, he ate in such haste, 
 -That he couldn't enjoy his naughty trick; 
 A man, too, came after him with a stick, 
 Who tried pretty hard to fell him down, — 
 'Twas the deacon, in his long dressing-gown. 
 And no doubt Chanticleer would have been dead, 
 Had he been hit on his wayward little head. 
 When at last he rcjached home, quite trembling with 
 
 fright. 
 His mother saw quickly that all was not right. 
 And concluded that, to keep him from doing wrong 
 
 again. 
 And to make him obedient, she must give him some pain. 
 So she took a rod, and held him by the wing, 
 And gave her naughty child a severe whipping. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 31 
 
 He sobbed and cried loud and long, 
 "Thougb he felt 'twas just, for he'd done wrong. 
 Children should always be made to mind. 
 To keep them from evU of every kind. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHAimCLEER LEARNS TO READ. 
 
 " Come here, my child," said Mother Hen, one day, 
 
 To Chanticleer, when he came in from play : 
 
 "'Tis time now to begin to think 
 
 Of something besides play, food, and drink. 
 
 A child who smart desires to be, 
 
 Must early learn his ABC, 
 
 The vowels — a, e, i, o, u — 
 
 And all the other letters, too. 
 
32 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 Then, when you Imow them well, 
 
 You will learn how to spell. 
 
 Therefore I have brought for you this book, 
 
 Into which I hope you will often look. • 
 
 Now come at once, and repeat after me, 
 
 Slowly and attentive, your ABC. 
 
 Quickly you'll learn them all by heart; 
 
 Soon to spell you'll begin if you are smart ; 
 
 And I promise that, when to read you begin, 
 
 You shall have books with pretty stories within." 
 
 Then she pointed to the letters, and pronounced them 
 
 with care, 
 And made her little Chantideer speak them after 
 
 her. 
 It was rather hard work for him, but still 
 He went at his letters with determined will; 
 And, grateful for his mother's pains, he tried 
 To make her entirely satisfied. 
 Yet, at first, he thought he hated to study. 
 And only through love for dear Mother Biddy, 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 33 
 
 He persevered, without being much admonished, 
 
 And, by his progress, all were much astonished; 
 
 For soon he knew all his letters so well. 
 
 That now he began to learn how to spell. 
 
 And if he'd been diligent before. 
 
 He now applied himself still more. 
 
 Great interest and pleasure now he took 
 
 In the study of his reading book. 
 
 For now he was able to read pretty tales, 
 
 AH about elephants, hons, and whales, — 
 
 About bees, who make delicious honey, — - 
 
 About a man who'd do any thing for money, — 
 
 About good little Charley, and careless Dick, — 
 
 About the sly fox who played the farmer a trick, — 
 
 About the tall giraffe, and the striped zebra, 
 
 And about the negroes of Africa. 
 
 And every story, no sooner read so fast. 
 
 He'd pronounce it better than the last; 
 
 And I know you'll be glad to have it said, 
 
 That Chanticleer reflected upon all he read. 
 
34 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 And when any thing didn't seem quite clear, 
 He'd inquire the meaning of his mother dear; 
 And thus, by reading and close observation, 
 He gained more knowledge than others in his station. 
 He knew a great deal, and could teU you at once 
 The names of several kinds of plants, 
 Of trees and flowers, of grains and fruit ; 
 And knew for what purposes they were good. 
 He read about fishes, and birds in the air, — 
 About the snail, who drags her house after her, — 
 About oceans, and ships, and shells on the shore. 
 And about many different objects more. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 35 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHAT HE LEAENS AND OBSERVES DURING HIS WALKS WITH 
 
 HIS MAMMA. 
 
 And what with, reading and ohserving nature, 
 
 He grew in knowledge, as well as in stature; 
 
 And, as might be expected from a good, loving child. 
 
 He was always quick to mind, obliging and mild. 
 
 This filled the mother's heart with pleasiu'e, 
 
 Who sought to please him hy spending her leisure 
 
 In taking him frequently out to walk, 
 
 To breathe the fresh air, and have a nice talk. 
 
 When thus engaged in pleasant conversation, 
 
 She took pains to direct his observation 
 
 To the many blessings aU around. 
 
 With which God made this earth abound. 
 
 The stately oak, with the tiny acorn; 
 
 The million of insects which are daily born ; 
 
36 THE LIFE AND ADVENTrRES 
 
 The luscious berries, and juicy fruit ; 
 
 Many herbs which are for sickness good; 
 
 The water in the brook, as* clear as glass ; 
 
 The nourishing grains; the velvety grass; 
 
 The bird in the air, who so sweetly sings; — 
 
 All this they admired, 'and many more things. 
 
 And often they'd see the cow 
 
 Enjoying her feed in the rich meadow; 
 
 And felt sorry that she did not spare 
 
 The pretty flowers that were there. 
 
 Then in summer, during the noonday heat. 
 
 They would. to the shady woods retreat; 
 
 And at other times, she'd take her little one 
 
 Into the garden, to see the setting sun, 
 
 As it tinged the sky with a crimson light; 
 
 And Chanticleer thought 'twas a splendid sight 
 
 When going home, they would stop on their way, 
 
 To admire the flower-beds so gay, — 
 
 Eoses and peonies, with evening dew bright; 
 
 Pinks, gillyflowers, and ladies' delight. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 37 
 
 Chanticleer enjoyed very much all he saw, 
 And often would say, "Thank you, dear mamma, 
 For taking me out to walk with thee. 
 And showing such lovely sights to me." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 chanticleer's complaint to his mother about the evils 
 which he observes all about him. — his mother's 
 
 ADVICE. 
 
 Quite different sights met Chanticleer's eye. 
 When playing in the yard close by. 
 Here he saw the robin forever stealing cherries; 
 There, some roosters were picking the ripe berries. 
 Though often they had been driven away, — 
 They wanted to have their share, they would say ; 
 ' 4 
 
38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 The crow would pull up the corn 
 
 Which the farmer just now had sown ; 
 
 Sweet little birds, innocent and gay, 
 
 Were killed by the cat, their enemy; 
 
 At poor old men often barked the dog; 
 
 To wallow in dirt delighted the hog ; 
 
 When the bull came home, at the close of the day. 
 
 Every one would run out of the fellow's way ; 
 
 To get some chickens, the hawk would strive. 
 
 Though they had never harmed him in their life ; 
 
 To see the turkeys fight, made him also feel quite sad, 
 
 When they tried to get away what another one had. 
 
 He often complained to his mamma 
 
 Of the evils which he daily saw. 
 
 ''My child," good Mrs. Biddy says, 
 
 "Do you not follow their bad ways. 
 
 Bad habits and vice you must ever hate ; 
 
 Only what good you may see you, must imitate. 
 
 A good child had much rather be clean and neat, 
 
 Than to soU his clothes, or muddy his feet; 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 39 
 
 He never must love to give pain without need 
 
 To any of God's creatures whom he chances to meet. 
 
 A good child does not tease, nor fight, my son, 
 
 Nor ever scratches the face of any one ; 
 
 He does not call bad names, nor is on mischief bent. 
 
 But is ever obliging and reverent; 
 
 He does not contradict what is said to him, 
 
 Nor pout when not gratified in every whim. 
 
 Be kind to all, and respect even the poor ; 
 
 For these are virtues which will ever endure. 
 
 Be slow to judge, but ready to be kind; 
 
 And, especially, always quick to mind." 
 
40 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 CHANTICLEER LEARNS TO WRITE, AND ADDRESSES A LETTER TO 
 HIS MOTHER. 
 
 "To-day we must learn some new lesson, my dear," 
 
 Mrs. Biddy said, one morning, to Chanticleer; 
 
 "And that you may learn how to write, — just look ! — 
 
 I have brought you this pencil and writing-book. 
 
 To learn how to write is the next step to take, 
 
 If in learning you wish much progress to make. 
 
 Straight marks for the beginning wiQ do ; 
 
 Next foUow letters, and numbers, too. 
 
 I know every day you will like it better; 
 
 How pleased you will be, when you can write a letter.! 
 
 Now take the pencil, and hold it in this way: 
 
 Let us make a fair beginning to-day. 
 
 Be careful to make these marks as I do ; 
 
 And to-morrow you shall make m, n, and u." 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. .. 41 
 
 Chanticleer did as lie was bid, 
 
 And daily at his desk would sit; 
 
 And though, at first, his marks were not quite straight, 
 
 Soon one could see that good progress he made. 
 
 Just six months from the time that he first begun. 
 
 On his mother's birthday, this dutiful son 
 
 Sat down and wrote, on a beautiful sheet, 
 
 A composition, for his mother to read: — 
 
 "Deab, Mother, whom I love so well, 
 I am more happy than I can teU, 
 To be able, on your birthday, to wish you much joy. 
 Forgive, if I have not always been a good boy ; 
 And I will- try to grow better every day, — 
 To prove my love, this wiE be the best way. 
 Please continue to love, my mother dear. 
 
 Thy true and affectionate 
 
 Chanticleer." 
 
 To be sure, this might have been written much better; 
 But his mother thought it was a beautiful letter. 
 4* 
 
42 .THE LIFE AND ADVENTITEES 
 
 Her eyes were sufiused with tears of joy, 
 To think that she had such an aflfectionate boy. 
 She thought he fully rewarded her 
 For all her sohcitude and care. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 .HIS YOUTH. — HE LEARNS HOW XO DRAW. — HIS FRUITLESS 
 EFFORTS TO LEARN HOW TO SING. 
 
 Now that Chanticleer knew how to write and read, 
 His mother bought all the utensils he'd need 
 To learn how to draw. First upon the slate; 
 And as he soon very good pictures made, 
 She gave him paper, pencil, and even a board, 
 The use of which he yet ignored. 
 But little teaching was sufficient 
 To make him in drawing proficient. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 43 
 
 Then a paint-box was given him — a perfect treasure ; 
 
 And his paintings gave universal pleasure. 
 
 Next, Mrs. Biddy 'thought what a nice thing 
 
 It would be to have him learn how to sing; 
 
 But whom was she for a teacher to get? 
 
 This difl&culty had to be settled yet. 
 
 So she went out, and invited all 
 
 The inmates of the yard to call, 
 
 That she might hear each one's voice, 
 
 And from among them make a choice. 
 
 They all came, their best efforts to lend. 
 
 Each hoping to satisfy their friend. 
 
 First the turkey began, followed by the peacock; 
 
 After him a rooster, a goose, and a duck; 
 
 Then the pig grunted, the mule did bray ; 
 
 After that the oxen had their say. 
 
 The kitty mewed and purred her best; 
 
 Then the dog barked with commendable zest; 
 
 And each thought they were doing remarkably well; 
 
 But which was the worst, it would be hard to tell. 
 
44 THE LIFE AND ADVENTtTEES 
 
 Now each had been heard — e'en the dove, who cooed — 
 
 But none of them would Mrs. Biddy suit ; 
 
 And earnestly upon her object bent, 
 
 Out into the fields and forests she went. 
 
 But at first aU her efforts seemed to fail, 
 
 Till at last she found a nightingale, 
 
 ■Who accepted her ofl&ce as teacher with pleasure, 
 
 And taught Chanticleer all about sound and measure. 
 
 She tried her best, and spared no pain. 
 
 To teach him to sing, but all in vain. 
 
 The notes were written on paper with skill; 
 
 But .all he could do was to open his bUl, 
 
 And squawk out dolefully, "Co, co, co-o," 
 
 Which, 'twas plain, was all that he ever could do. 
 
 "I thank you for your trouble," Mrs. Biddy said; 
 
 "I fear for your trouble you are hardly paid; 
 
 But it's useless for him any more lessons to take, 
 
 For I'm sure a singer he never wiU make." 
 
 Perhaps he may, at some future day. 
 
 Learn upon some instrument to play." 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 45 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CHANTICLEEE STUDIES ARITHMETIC. 
 
 Not long after this, Mrs. Biddy began 
 
 To say to her little rooster man, 
 
 "We have reached thus far with your education, 
 
 And now we'll take a look at calculation; 
 
 For if in usefulness you desire to abound, 
 
 It is needful that you know how to count. 
 
 Come, then, and sit down beside me, 
 
 And count attentively, one, two, three. 
 
 Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. 
 
 Of that number, what have you ever seen ? " 
 
 "I have seen ten fingers on the hands of men; 
 
 And of toes at their feet, there are also ten." 
 
 "That is right. Now, can you tell me 
 
 How much are one and two?" "That's three," 
 
46 THE LIFE AND ADVENTUE.ES 
 
 He replied, "You are right again. 
 
 And two from four?" "There two remain," 
 
 "You are doing well, my child," she said. 
 
 "Now mark that two times four makes eight: 
 
 Add two to this, how much is it, then?" 
 
 And Chanticleer said, "It must be ten." 
 
 "How much are two and ten — can you tell me?" 
 
 "I think it must make twelve," said he. 
 
 "Eight again. And twelve is a number 
 
 Which is called a dozen, you must remember. 
 
 When we count knives, forks, or tablecloths. 
 
 Napkins, handkerchiefs, or hose. 
 
 Twelve months there are in every year; 
 
 Do not forget this, Chanticleer. 
 
 How much is six times two — now can you tell?" 
 
 " It is twelve, I think." " You have answered well. 
 
 "Add two now to twelve — 'tis easy to be seen." 
 
 "Yes," he replied, "that makes fourteen." 
 
 By this you can see how very quick 
 
 He was in learning arithmetic. 
 
OF CHANTICLEEH, * 47 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CHANTICLEER SAVES A LITTLE BIRD FROM DROWNING, AND 
 COURAGEOUSLY COMES TO A CHICKEN'S RESCUE. 
 
 While thus employed in learning daily something new, 
 To quite a large and intelligent rooster he grew. 
 The spurs at his feet were beginning to show. 
 And on his head a respectable comb did grow. 
 The feathers of his coat, and of his tail, also. 
 Shone brightly with all the colors of the rainbow. 
 In seeing him aU the neighbors took delight. 
 Especially when, in the bright sun-light. 
 To be admired so much, it would not have been 
 Very astonishing, if he had grown vain; 
 But he did not — to his honor be it said — 
 Withal that so much homage to him was paid. 
 His bearing was modest, though he walked erect, 
 Uniting humility to a proper self-respect. 
 
48 T^E LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 And onoe, when out walking with his dear manuna, 
 
 On approaching the brook, young Chanticleer saw 
 
 A little bird, which, by some chance, had fallen in, 
 
 And no doubt would have drowned, had it not been seen 
 
 By our young friend, who instantly flew 
 
 To the poor little bird's timely rescue, — 
 
 Drew him out of the water, and laid him down ; 
 
 Then carefully wiped his dripping gown ; 
 
 Very soon the warm sun had made it quite dry. 
 
 Then its mother, who had now approached near by. 
 
 Cried out, " Thank you, for being so kind and brave. 
 
 Now, in return, ^our life I'll try to save : 
 
 Go away, as quick as you can, from here. 
 
 For I know that a crafty fox is near." 
 
 Thus every kind word or good action spent 
 
 Win surely find its reward in the end. 
 
 On another occasion, Topsy, the cat, — 
 
 Though apparently no evil thought she had, — 
 
 By the fence of the garden was stealing by, 
 
 Not aware that upon her was fastened his eye. 
 
Chanticleer at once flew upon her neck, 
 J And vigorously began her head to peck. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 49 
 
 She suddenly gave a spring quite bold, 
 And upon a clucken fastened hold, 
 Hoping to regale herself, no doubt,; 
 But she was mistaken, she soon found out ; 
 For Chanticleer at once flew upon her neck, 
 And vigorously began her head to peck, 
 And loudly called the neighbors to assist. 
 In case that Topsy should attempt to resist. 
 But she was so frightened, that very quick 
 She dropped the trembling, bleeding chick; 
 And not daring to give them time to think. 
 She escaped from the spot " as quick as wink." 
 Then they all siurounded him, and, in many waysy 
 Expressed to him their approbation and praise. 
 But Chanticleer told them, that he thought 
 He'd only done what any one ought. 
 Not to do any wrong requires strong will; 
 But to prevent evil is better still. 
 5 
 
50 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTEK XIV. 
 
 chanticleer's youth. HE GOES TO COLLEGE, AND APPLIES 
 
 HIMSELF WELL TO HIS STUDIES. — THE DOCTOR ADVISES 
 HIM NOT TO STUDY SO HARD, AND TO BE MODERATE IN 
 ALL THINGS. 
 
 The lovely summer season had passed away. 
 
 And the storms of winter were having their sway, 
 
 "When, during one cool and frosty day, 
 
 "We heard our young friend Chanticleer say, 
 
 "Now, mother, I'm strong, and old enough, too, 
 
 To start on a journey, the world to view; 
 
 "When snow and ice are melting and spring comes forth, 
 
 I shall leave for a while your maternal hearth. 
 
 As many others have done before me." 
 
 "I shall not consent to this step,"^aid she. 
 
 "My wish, which I trust you will not discard. 
 
 Is that, next spring, you go to old Harvard, 
 
or CHANTICLEEK. 51 
 
 And learn there all you possibly can ; 
 
 "When you come home, you may pursue your plan." 
 
 Accordingly, to old Cambridge he went, 
 
 And over his studies all his energies bent. 
 
 I should really have liked to have had you come, 
 
 And see the big books which he studied from. 
 
 He enjoyed it better, to study and think, 
 
 Than he did to walk out, or to eat, or drink. 
 
 He read and wrote, and wrote and read, 
 
 So much, that the doctor to him said, 
 
 ■'My young man, allow me to scold you some; 
 
 You were fat and stout when you left your home; 
 
 And now your countenance looks wan and thili; 
 
 You study too much, — that is plain to be seen. 
 
 Now heed my advice, and study less, 
 
 And you wiQ be more sure of success. 
 
 To be sure, whilst often ten out of eleven 
 
 To their hooks and studies have to be driven. 
 
 Yet, to do too much of the very best thing, 
 
 Never fails a deal of mischief to bring. 
 
52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJRES 
 
 To sit too many hours, or too much thinking; 
 To eat immoderately, or too much drinking; 
 To waste one's time by too much sleep. 
 Or study too much, or too late hours keep ; 
 Too much boasting, as well as too much pride. 
 Or too much desire one's merits to hide : 
 Too often to borrow, or too often to lend, — 
 All these one must beware of, my young friend. 
 For 'tis best, on every occasion. 
 To use a proper moderation. 
 Still you are deserving of much praise, my lad. 
 That you do not follow the example, so bad. 
 Of these who love horses, wine, and lager-beer. 
 Better than the books which to study they came here,- 
 Squandering their money and time without measure, - 
 Spending in useless pursuits all their leisure. 
 To succeed in the world, the very best way 
 Is to use moderation, faith, and energy." 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 53 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CHAUnCLEEE STARTS ON A JOURNEY. — HE IS TAKEN SICK IN 
 NEW ORLEANS, AND WRITES A LETTER TO HIS MOTHER. 
 
 The end of the college term had come, 
 
 And Chanticleer now was retm-ning home. 
 
 Mrs. Biddy was pleased to see him, and then 
 
 "Was willing to have him his journey begin. 
 
 His valise was soon packed. It was a glorious thing. 
 
 He thought, when he started, one fine day in spring. 
 
 The various scenes he viewed with delight; 
 
 The sky so serene, and the sun so bright! 
 
 And at times, when a fine stream or mountain he'd 
 
 see. 
 You could have seen him, for joy, jump as high as 
 
 a tree. 
 He enjoyed it so much, to travel and roam. 
 That he did not once think of returning home. 
 5* 
 
54 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 But, at last, his money was much in decrease. 
 And in New Orleans he was prostrated by disease. 
 Just as soon as he grew a little better, 
 He wrote to his mother a pitiful letter. 
 
 "Mt vert dear Mother," he wrote, 
 
 "What will you say, 
 When you learn that I've been sick three weeks to 
 
 a day? 
 I am quite low with a fever, and my money is all gone, 
 And poor nursing and care do I get here alone. 
 Very often I think, as on my straw I lie here. 
 For niy desire to travel I am paying pretty dear; 
 Yet I must confess, that, though now in a sad plight, 
 Many lovely scenes I have viewed with delight. 
 I have climbed up mountains, and sailed on a lake; 
 And would have crossed the ocean, were it not for 
 
 your sake. 
 Did you know that telegraph wires are now in use, 
 Which carry, with lightning speed, messages and news? 
 
OF CHANTICLEEB. 55 
 
 Instead of travelling by stages and team, 
 
 The wagons and freight are now carried by steam. 
 
 Ships, also, need no longer the wind to heed, 
 
 For they now go by steam, at much greater speed. 
 
 Many other improvements have been made also; 
 
 For instance, a machine which can plough and hoe; 
 
 And I wish you had one which really can sew. • 
 
 But, alas! these nice things are only sold 
 
 To the ones whose pockets are filled with gold; 
 
 And, as you know this isn't the case with me, 
 
 We must learn without them contented to be. 
 
 Every where much glitter and fashion I see ; 
 
 Yet all this does not hide the great misery 
 
 In which many are Kving and dying every day. 
 
 And which to alleviate there ought to be a way. 
 
 And now I will bid you an affectionate ' Good by,' 
 
 And trust that to send me some money you'll try. 
 
 That, as soon as possible, I may get away from here ; 
 
 Whilst meanwhile I remain, your affectionate 
 
 Chanticleee." 
 
56 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CHANTICLEER' EETURNS HOME. — HE RELATES HIS ADYENTUEES. 
 — MB. GANDER IS IMPUDENT, AND IS REPROVED. 
 
 A YEAR had now almost passed away, 
 
 Since our hero started on his way; 
 
 And, though in travelling he much pleasure found, 
 
 His steps were most joyous when homeward bound; 
 
 And, when the old homestead to his view had come, 
 
 He crowed out in gladness, "There's no place like home." 
 
 He reached there at last, and aU were glad. 
 
 To see that he had grown, from a fair young lad. 
 
 To a sunburnt young man, tall and erect, 
 
 Possessed of much knowledge and self-respect. 
 
 His mother was delighted, above the rest. 
 
 To press him once more to her motherly breast. 
 
 "How glad I am," she said, "to see you again! 
 
 Now the rest of my days with me you'U remain. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 57 
 
 How brown you are ! and how you've grown tall ! 
 
 Now tell us of your adventures all." 
 
 And a good many hours now daily he spends, 
 
 As around him are gathered his neighbors and friends, 
 
 To tell of many lovely places seen. 
 
 Where, during his travels, he had been. 
 
 To the White Moimtains he had been tempted to go. 
 
 Where, in midsummer, the hill-tops are clad with snow. 
 
 While the valleys with verdure were all arglow. 
 
 In New York he had found the most fashion and show. 
 
 The views on the Hudson were very fine, — 
 
 This river is oft called the American Khine. 
 
 He saw West Point, where boys learn to fight, 
 
 To defend their country and their right. 
 
 The Western States he visited, too, 
 
 Where wheat and corn in plenty grew. 
 
 "I had a chance to see the prairies 
 
 In the States of Wisconsin and Illinois ; 
 
 The valley of the Mississippi, too. 
 
 Is a fine country to travel through. 
 
58 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJRES 
 
 The climate suited me so well, 
 
 I would have staid there a longer spell, 
 
 Had it not been, for the want of means. 
 
 That I had to quit those lovely scenes 
 
 In too much haste 
 
 To suit my taste. 
 
 But you must know that I soon found out, 
 
 That, to enjoy travelling about, — 
 
 To go sight-seeing, and pay hotel fare, — 
 
 Requires a full purse every where. 
 
 The next best thing is, to be polite. 
 
 And ever do what you know to be right: 
 
 Good manners, abroad or at home, 
 
 Gain friends wherever you roam." 
 
 Thus many an hour was passed away 
 
 In pleasant converse every day; 
 
 And all the neighbors round about 
 
 Accepted his word, without a doubt. 
 
 But once, when mentioning a steamboat explosion, 
 
 Mr. Gander conceived the silly notion 
 
OF CHANTICLEEB. 59 
 
 To contradict him to his face, and say, 
 "I believe to use big words is the way 
 With the fast young men "of our day." 
 But Chanticleer said, "My good sir, nay: 
 Allow me to teU you, With due respect. 
 That any thing different we cannot expect 
 From one who always remains at home, — 
 Who beyond, his yard never wishes to roam. 
 One who hates his school, and a book reads never, 
 Eemains a gander forever and ever." 
 Then they all laughed, and called him smart, 
 Though Gander thought 'twas rather tart. 
 
60 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 MRS. BIDDT'S death. — CHANTICLEER'S MARRIAGE. HE IS A 
 
 DUTIFUL HUSBAND AND FATHER. 
 
 Some time after this, Mrs. Biddy grew HI, 
 
 And died very soon after making hei; wUl. 
 
 Her loss was felt by many a friend, 
 
 To whom she had never refused to lend. 
 
 To every one she had been friendly and kind. 
 
 And many a good deed she left behind. 
 
 Though now quite a man was Chanticleer, 
 
 The geese would call him "little," even this year; 
 
 But this did not fit him any more at all; 
 
 But rather, " Mr. Cockerel," — now lord of the stall. 
 
 He felt rather lonesome, now his mother was gone; 
 
 So he thought he no longer would remain alone; 
 
 And improving the very first chance. 
 
 He called upon his owner at once. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER, 61 
 
 "Dear sir," he said, "to you I have come,. 
 To ask for a wife to grace my home. 
 To greater bliss I do not aspire ; • 
 Be pleased to gratify my humble desire." 
 The man replied, "'Tis a pleasure to me. 
 Instead of one, to give you three." 
 Chanticleer thanked him with due respect. 
 And felt as pleased as one might expect. 
 His home now was as cheerful as when 
 His mother kept house — that excellent hen! 
 His happiness now seemed without alloy. 
 His good hens' society gave him much joy. 
 He was always attentive and kind to them; 
 But whenever some strange dandy in his yard came, 
 His family to tease, 
 And disturb the peace. 
 He never failed in sending him home 
 With repenting heart and bleeding comb. 
 As a good husband, he ever took pride 
 To keep the wants of his household supplied ; 
 6 
 
62 THE LIFE AND ADVENTXJEES 
 
 Whilst his faithful wives, with equal zest, 
 
 Kept laying their eggs in their cozy nest. 
 
 And soon he had the pleasure to be 
 
 Father to quite a large family; 
 
 And often in their midst was he seen; 
 
 "With watchful looks, and tender mien. 
 
 Early he began to instruct them aU, 
 
 And taught them to mind the very first call; 
 
 And never neglected his acknowledged right 
 
 To awaken them aU at the first dawn of light. 
 
 When the weather was going to change he knew, 
 
 And always acknowledged it with " Cock-a-doodle-doo." 
 
 Good order reigned in his household, 
 
 Nor did he ever coax or scold; 
 
 Was danger near, he would sound the alarm, 
 
 And thus keep them all from attack or harm. 
 
 All helped earn their food, and forbidden was theft; 
 
 But the best morsels were always for little ones left. 
 
 Thus he well earned the desirable name 
 
 Of a wise rooster, wherever he came. 
 
OF CHAJTTICLEER. 63 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TWO ADTENTUEJES WITH MR. FOX, WHOSE SCHEMES ABE 
 DEFEATED. 
 
 Mr. Fox soon heard a report of all this, 
 
 And thought by himself, 'twould not be amiss 
 
 To make upon them a friendly call. 
 
 And gain an entrance to this rooster's stall. 
 
 Then wouldn't he have a nice time of it ! 
 
 And forthwith he set to work his wit; 
 
 And as soon as he his plans had laid. 
 
 He knocked one night at the door, and said, 
 
 "Kind Mr. Rooster, open, I pray, 
 
 Your door to me, for I've lost my way. 
 
 I am a poor orphan chUd, 
 
 And people call me good and mild; 
 
 I have no friend in the wide, wide world; 
 
 And 0, I am so hungry and cold!" 
 
64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 But it was not easy our rooster to cheat: 
 He felt at once that it was all deceit; 
 So he called out to the wily loafer, 
 " Just go and knock at the door of Rover ; 
 He'U open the door at once to youj' 
 Then loudly he crowed his " Cock-ardoodle-doo ! " 
 This quickly brought Rover, who came to see 
 What, at this time of night, the matter could be ; 
 But when he got there, he saw with grief 
 That he had come too late to catch the thief 
 He" made chase after Re3aiard, but without avail ; 
 Yet succeeded to bite off a piece of his tail, 
 WhUst foxy was squeezing through a hole in the wall, 
 With empty stomach, and narrow escape withal. 
 A good warning to him this lesson might seem; 
 Still he would not renounce his cherished scheme ; 
 But, taking fresh courage, he went once more 
 To knock, one dark night, again at the door. 
 "Open to me quickly!" cried out the liar; 
 "The village and your homestead are on fire!" 
 
OF CHANTICLEEK. 65 
 
 "I'm much obliged to you, my dear," 
 Eeplied our cautious Chanticleer; 
 "Your kind help I'll not refuse, 
 Nor your readiness abuse; ' 
 But I'll open to you at once," 
 He said to the conceited dunce. 
 However, he thought best 
 Not to grant the request; 
 But opened a certain door 
 "Which Mr. Fox had not looked for. 
 Quickly he put his paw in, when, lo! the clap 
 Of the door made him feel that it was a trap. 
 Now, piteously, for mercy he cried. 
 And to move Chanticleer's heart he tried. 
 But when he saw all hope was past. 
 By a powerful effort, he got free, at last; 
 But not without pulling with aU his might. 
 And tearing off one paw, which served him right. 
 6* 
 
66 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NAUaHTT CHILD. — SAD CONSEQUENCES OP HIS WILFULNESS, i 
 
 Thus cautious and wise was Chanticleer — ^^ 
 A bright example to far and near; /■ . 
 
 And his little children behaved so well, 
 There could scarce be. found a parallelv*^.^' , 
 Only \onfe there was among them all, 
 Though yet quite young, and v£ry small// » 
 Who abyays wanted his own way, , 
 And would have the last word '^to; say. 
 His little tongue he could, not bridle; / 
 When aU were busy, He .would -j)e' idle ; , 
 Of every thing nice Jie'd have the best share ; 
 His naughtiness caused his mother much care ; 
 His father saw this witl ^^displeasure; 
 And, though he ascribed if in a measure 
 To his having be^ petted when he was ill> 
 He began to correct this stubborn will. 
 
 '■'¥, 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 67 
 
 He spoke to him again and again; 
 
 But all his efforts were in vain. 
 
 Then liis father said, Tm sorry for you; 
 
 'For selfishness will be punished, I know." 
 
 And, to be sure, not many weeks after this, 
 
 He ate too many currants and gooseberries. 
 
 In consequence of this .naughty trick. 
 
 He was taken Very sick. ' 
 
 The doctor to restore him .tried ; ■ 
 
 But without success i he grew worse .^nd died, v 
 
 This mad^ them all feel very 'bad; ' '' . /,.,;' 
 
 Indeed, his father felt ao sad, ' . ", 
 
 That reaUy qijite thlii|he. grew. 
 
 And, at last, hg^^vwas taken sick, too. 
 
 This gave the fal^y vety much pain; 
 
 And they hoped he soon- would-be weU again. 
 
 H'e carefully followed the.doc^r's advice, — 
 
 Took his medicines, thoTidi^h^,did not taste very nice. 
 
 The news of his iUnessj mas >,soqp spread 
 
 AH over the village, anomany said, 
 
68 THE LIFE AND ADVENTtTRES 
 
 That he would follow his son to the grave; 
 
 But Providence thought best his life to save. 
 
 The doctor held with others council, 
 
 And, shortly after, our hero got well; 
 
 And aU were pleased once more to behold 
 
 Him resuming his duties, as of old. 
 
 Thus, a naughty child, on mischief bent, 
 
 Brings trouble and pain to his parent. 
 
 To the world he now was longer spared; 
 
 And, as before, he always cared 
 
 That peace and order at home should reign; 
 
 Much love and respect he thus did gain. 
 
 His children now were growing tall, 
 
 Yet still obeyed his wish or call. , 
 
 Jersey Blue, Blossom, Shanghai, and Dames, — 
 
 These were ^e four eldest daughters' names; 
 
 While the names of the four' oldest boys were 
 
 Lord Bolton, Dick, Coc^am, and Chanticleer. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 69 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 CHANTICLEEE, AND HIS FAMILY FLEE FROM THE VILLAGE AT 
 THE APPROACH OF SOLDIERS, WHO THREATEN TO TAKE 
 THEIR LIVES. THEY DIRECT THEIR STEPS TO CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 One day, the neighbors all around 
 
 "Were startled by an unusual sound 
 
 like of approaching troops, — the hum 
 
 Of tramping men, with fife and drum: 
 
 Yes, surely they were soldiers, 
 
 With muskets on their shoulders. 
 
 Every one ia the village was then scared; 
 
 They did not know that war was declared. 
 
 They were going to take the place, I suppose; 
 
 And woe to the one who'd try to oppose. 
 
 All ready they were for fighting and killing. 
 
 But thought with poultry to make a beginning; 
 
70 THE LIFE AND ADVENTrKES 
 
 • 
 
 For, besides their swords and desire to fight, 
 They'd brought with them a good appetite ; 
 And one Zouave, whom they all feared, 
 Because he had such a long beard. 
 With sword in hand, looked all around. 
 To see where Chanticleer was to be found. 
 But, like a wise father, at the first alarm, 
 He'd taken his brood out of the way of harm, 
 To a close thicket in the neighborhood. 
 Where, however, was but little food. 
 It is of no use the danger to hide 
 Which now surrounds us on every side," 
 Said Chanticleer, with a serious brow; 
 "And. I think the best way to do now 
 Is for the older children to travel abroad, — 
 The first few days keep on the back road. 
 The little ones must remain in my care ; 
 And my fortunes they shall freely share. 
 In Cambridge I've a valued friend; 
 To seek him oiit I now intend. 
 
 (( 
 
With sword in band he looked a^l 'round i i/.; i\i:r;;.tY; 
 To see where Chanticleer was to; be found. [ 1 '/"^'"'■^i { 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 71 
 
 He was a noble, generous youth, — 
 Scorning meanness, loving truth; 
 He wiU a cordial hand extend. 
 And kindly welcome an old friend. 
 So, when the day expires in night, 
 "We'll quietly begin our flight." 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF THEIE JOtfBNET. THEY ARE FRIGHTENED 
 
 WITHOUT CAUSE. THEY REACH CAMBRIDGE. A KIND 
 
 WELCOME. 
 
 Slowly and sadly passed the, day, 
 Tin evening came, with shadows gray ; 
 Then, at the rising of the moon, 
 The older children, one by one. 
 Came of their father leave to take, 
 Weeping as if their hearts would break ; 
 
72 THE LIFE AND ADVENTUKES 
 
 But he. bade them dry their tears, 
 And Ipt their courage quell their fears. 
 He hoped that many things they'd learn, 
 To talk of when they should return. 
 Then kissing them a fond good night, 
 He told them to prepare for flight. 
 They hade adieu, and Chanticleer 
 Awoke the little ones so dear, 
 And, with a heavy heart within. 
 The cheerless journey they begin. 
 Their timid feelings, mixed with fear, 
 Kept them close to Chanticleer. 
 Anon they heard a rusthng sound; 
 'Twas but the huntsman and his hound 
 Beating the bush, to find some game. 
 Then a carriage rumbling came. 
 Striking on . the startled ear. 
 Awakening every sense of fear. 
 The whistling cars they also heard, 
 Which every pulse of wonder stirred. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 73 
 
 Once, in their way there seemed to stand 
 A giant, with an outstretched hand; 
 When they approached, 'twas found to be 
 A dry and withered willow tree. 
 Soon all were glad to greet the day; 
 Then idle fears they laughed away. 
 When the sun did 'bright ascend, 
 It put to every fear an end. 
 His rays dispersed all thoughts of sadness, 
 And filled each little heart with gladness. 
 The lark ascended high in air. 
 And warbled there his morning prayer; 
 And farmers hurried to the fields. 
 To plant the fruit that nature yields. 
 Whoever hath risen at early morn, 
 Late in his bed to lie wUl scorn, — 
 So sweet the breath of perfumes rare, 
 That float about in the morning air. 
 The family stiU kept marching on; 
 Each hour a greater distance won. 
 
74 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 Their food they gathered on the way, 
 , And did not rest their feet, nor play. 
 But, ere the second day had past, 
 One little chick grew lame so fast, 
 That Chanticleer, with clever tact. 
 Lifted the wee one on his back, 
 And then proceeded on the way, 
 TiU near the closing of the day, 
 When, in the distance, they descried 
 A smoke, a church-spire, and, beside. 
 They saw, upon the distant hUl, 
 The ancient college standing still. 
 Said Chanticleer, with gay delight, 
 "There's Cambridge, where we rest to-night." 
 A friendly person in the street 
 Guided their worn and weary feet 
 To where he said his friend did dwell. 
 ■Then Chanticleer pulled at the beU; 
 The door for them was opened wide. 
 And gladly each one stepped inside. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 75 
 
 The friend delighted seemed to be 
 Good Chanticleer's bright face to see; 
 He bade them welcome to his home, 
 And all were glad that they had come. 
 "You see we live quite plainly here," 
 Said William then to Chanticleer; 
 "Though poor the fare by which we live. 
 We ne'er forget our thanks to give 
 To the Father above, 
 Who listens in love. 
 And bids us be kind 
 To the poor we find. 
 At morning's dawn, we all arise, — 
 We've learned the morning hours to prize , 
 Coffee and tea we do not make ; 
 To quench our thirst, pure water take; 
 And, in some quite secluded nook, 
 We often bathe in the sunny brook. 
 We come out fresh for cheerful labors. 
 In which we're joined by our neighbors. 
 
76 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 When we have finished the work of day, 
 And at night ovir weary limbs we lay 
 On our rude and simple cot, 
 Down and feathers are all forgot. 
 Who labors well can sleep with ease. 
 Without the slightest aid from these j 
 And can be sure of quiet rest, 
 If only with clear conscience blest." 
 Gladly they accepted his invitation, 
 Hoping to return it on some occasion. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 77 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A DANCmO BEAR. — THET SUDDENLY DEPART FOE HOME. 
 
 One day, when they were in the street, 
 
 Where they had gone a friend to meet, 
 
 They heard a noise of fife and drum. 
 
 And wondered what to town had come; 
 
 Aad every body ran to see 
 
 The wondrous things that there might be — 
 
 A shaggy bear, &om far away ; 
 
 With him they saw a camel gray. 
 
 Larger than horses on the road; 
 
 And on his back a monkey strode, 
 
 A comic cap above his nose. 
 
 With gaudy coat and scarlet hose. 
 
 He jumped and grinned, turned somerset. 
 
 Looking around for what he could get. 
 
78 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 An organ-grinder took the stand, 
 And the monkey started, cap in hand, 
 To ask for gifts, with a knowing wink. 
 As much as to say, "You'll give, I think;" 
 And often to his happy lot 
 There fell an apple or a nut. 
 Then the man gave a stick to the bear. 
 Which he took with a very knowing air, 
 And began to perform with right good will. 
 With a martial air, the soldier's drill; 
 And all cried out, " dear, how tame ! " 
 But just then another noise came. 
 To bring to a sad and sudden end 
 Their pleasure, which seemed so innocent. 
 It was the enemy, as before, 
 Who'd come to frighten them once more. 
 With cannons and horses, a dreadful band. 
 Who, they feared, would desolate the land ; 
 For every where the fear of war 
 Frightens people, wherever they are; 
 
TUej all cried out, " dear ! . . , Bow taine 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 79 
 
 And, at all times, those have had a ' bad name, 
 
 Who made fighting their object and aim. 
 
 Yet sometimes, for a noble cause, 
 
 Arms must be taken, even by those 
 
 Who are friends of quiet and of peace, 
 
 But liberty love more than ease. 
 
 This, of course. Chanticleer didn't understand ; 
 
 So he took his little ones by the hand. 
 
 And hid with them far out of the way. 
 
 "You see, dear children," we then heard him say, 
 
 "That even wild beasts can be tamed by men; 
 
 For aU creation is mastered by them; 
 
 Yet when revengeful passions in men's bosoms dwell. 
 
 They convert this fair earth into a hell; 
 
 Worse than the wil(J bear in the wood, 
 
 Man kills his brother, in angry mood. 
 
 Let's turn our steps towards our old home. 
 
 Since the soldiers now this way have come." 
 
80 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJKES 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THEIR JOTFUI. EETXJRN. — CHANTICLEBB'S CHILDREN MARRY. — 
 HIS ADVICE TO THEM TO BE INDUSTRIOUS AND^ TO BE 
 UNITED. 
 
 When the" journey was made, they all felt glad 
 
 To find that the others returned had 
 
 To the old homestead, where all was quiet, 
 
 Which filled them all with great delight. 
 
 It was indeed a pleasing sight 
 
 To see them all once more unite. 
 
 Each their adventures to recouqt. 
 
 Then all went ofi" to sleep quite sound ; 
 
 And, hright in the morning, they began once more 
 
 To go on the same as they'd" done before. 
 
 The oldest daughters got married now ; 
 
 The sons, too, took the marriage vow ; 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 81 
 
 And, in their turn, had children soon, 
 
 Who quicldy Jearned to walk alone. 
 
 Still Chanticleer felt right smart and hale, 
 
 Though " Grandpa," now, throughout the vale ; 
 
 And often he would enjoy to be 
 
 Surrounded by his great family, 
 
 Telling them stories of days past and gone, 
 
 And of his travels which he'd made all alone ; 
 
 And many lessons, useful and kind, 
 
 He imparted to their youthful mind. 
 
 "Every one should try," he once said to all, 
 
 " To fill a place on earth, e'en though it be small ; 
 
 No drones should allowed to be 
 
 Members of your great family. 
 
 Money will not always insure 
 
 What one most needs, and what will endure. 
 
 As kindness, esteem, or intelligence, 
 
 Which are worth more than shillings or pence. 
 
 Each individual has, from Heaven, 
 
 For his use, different talents given. 
 
82 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 To work with his head one best understands; 
 
 Another finds it easier to work with his huTids. 
 
 The carpenter builds a house with the plan 
 
 Which the skilful architect has drawn ; 
 
 Then the plasterer and painter must do their share ; 
 
 The upholsterer will next be needed there, 
 
 To make and furnish table and couch, 
 
 And put upon all the finishing touch; 
 
 Then many others must also come, 
 
 To add comfort to a pleasant home. 
 
 Thus is it with ships, and every thing else ; 
 
 Many hands are needed more than wealth. 
 
 If ever you'd succeed in an enterprise, 
 
 You must unite with the skilful and the wise ; 
 
 And each must do what he best knows how, 
 
 Whether it be to teach a school, or milk a cow. 
 
 Study economy; save time and strength; 
 
 Measure beforehand the cable's length; 
 
 If you undertake to lay it, 
 
 'Tis always safest first to weigh it. 
 
OF CHANTICLEEK. 83 
 
 Rise- early, and waste no time in slumber; 
 
 And 'Union is strength' ever remember. 
 
 Another fine virtue is honesty, 
 
 With determination and industry. 
 
 Then persevere, and, with patient toil, 
 
 You'll raise a crop from the poorest soil. 
 
 Be not content to work for your gain alone. 
 
 But make otlwrs^ interests your own; 
 
 And always think for others to do 
 
 As you wish that they would do for you." 
 
 And every one loved to hear 
 
 And listen to old Chanticleer. 
 
 And, though his eyes to fail began, 
 
 His hearing, too, was on the wane, 
 
 Yet his advice was as good as ever. 
 
 And was sought by all the good and clever. 
 
 The children would often leave their playmates. 
 
 To bring to Grandpa their books or slates. 
 
 To read to him, or hear him verses recite. 
 
 Or beg for a story in the pleasant twilight. 
 
84 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 Yet 'twas quite plain to be seen, that he 
 
 Was getting old and infirm to be. 
 
 His step was feeble, and tremulous his song; 
 
 And aE felt that he would leave them ere long. 
 
 They praised him the more, and couldn't do enough, 
 
 To make him forget his troublesome cough. 
 
 He often was touched by their tender care. 
 
 And then would say, "A little longer forbear 
 
 With your old sire, while I dwell with you; 
 
 I know that rich blessings are your due. 
 
 May you find your reward, is my greatest wish, 
 
 For your love, so devoted and unselfish ! " 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 85 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE GOOD DEEDS OF HIS GRAND CHILDEEN. — WHICH ONE DE- 
 SERVED TO RECEIVE THE PRECIOUS DIAMOND ? 
 
 One night — 'twas in the pleasant autumn — 
 
 He bade all his grandchildren to come, 
 
 And said to them, in a pleasant mood. 
 
 As they all around him c|.uietly stood, 
 
 "I own a precious diamond clear, 
 
 I kept for the one who'd be most dear; 
 
 But to me you are all alike dear ; 
 
 Therefore, the one, who, from among you here. 
 
 To-day the best of deeds has done. 
 
 Shall have my diamond for his own." 
 
 Then arose one pretty little one : 
 
 "All day I tried to be good," he begun; 
 
 "I have prayed, and studied, and wrote, and read. 
 
 And minded every word that mamma has said; 
 
86 • THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 But this I know is nothing to boast of; 
 
 To do one's duty is hardly enough." 
 
 A second one then jumped on his feet, 
 
 And said, "To-day I ate too much fat meat; 
 
 It made me more sick than ever I had been; 
 
 So I asked mother for some medicine. 
 
 Though I hate it, for 'tis bitter as gall ; 
 
 But I knew 'twould relieve me, — and that was all." 
 
 A third then got up, and said, "My mother 
 
 Bade me take care of my little brother. 
 
 And, during her absence, with him to stay. 
 
 Soon after, my schoolmates wanted me to play 
 
 With them in the street, and let baby weep, 
 
 Tni he should have cried himself to sleep ; 
 
 But I wouldn't follow their naughty whim, 
 
 But rather remained alone with him." 
 
 "Another was scolded," said the fourth one, 
 
 " This morning, for what I myself had done. 
 
 Though there were none the contrary to prove, 
 
 I thought 'twould be shameful to stand aloof; 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 87 
 
 The innocent I would not let suffer for me ; 
 
 I owned myself guilty, that he might be free, 
 
 Though I knew I shouldn't have been detected, — 
 
 Yet 'twas no more than could be expected." 
 
 A nice little chick then got up, and said, 
 
 "I saw a httle child, who, I was afraid, 
 
 Would take cold this cool morning, for it sat 
 
 Where the wind blew hard, and 'twas thinly clad. 
 
 I took oflf my coat, and put it on her ; 
 
 The boys all laughed at me, but I didn't care." 
 
 "This morning early," a sixth one told, 
 
 "I found a beautiful piece of gold. 
 
 I searched for the owner who had lost it. 
 
 And gave it to him, — 'tis no great merit." 
 
 The seventh one spoke with modesty: 
 
 "I was punished to-day severely. 
 
 Because for my sister I wished to bear 
 
 The punishment which was due to her ; 
 
 For it was she who spilled the milk on the floor, 
 
 When she stumbled. over the sill of the door. 
 
88 THE LIFE AND ACrENTURES 
 
 But I'm sure I don't deserve any praise, 
 For she's often kind to me in many ways." 
 An older one said, "My supper last night 
 I gave to a poor little girl, who cried 
 With hunger and with cold and fear. 
 I ran to my home, which was quite near. 
 And got my supper, and returned to where 
 She was standing ; then gave it to her. 
 I was glad to see it taste so good. - 
 Just think ! that day she'd tasted no food. 
 It was no great privation to me; 
 I hardly know what it is hungry to be." 
 "You are all good children," said Chanticleer; 
 "Kind, yet modest, you don't wish to appear 
 Any better than what you reaUy are. 
 Vanity is ever with virtue at war. 
 Then never boast of having done your duty ; 
 For modesty to a kind heart lends beauty. 
 But now you must each your voice give, 
 Who deserves my diamond to receive." 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 89 
 
 But just then a neighbor's chicken came, 
 
 And said, "You know who I am; I'm the same 
 
 Who thinks it is the nicest fun 
 
 To tease and fight, whenever I can. 
 
 I especially like to plague — 'tis a naughty whim — 
 
 Your good little Dick, whenever I meet him. 
 
 'Last night I saw him, and flew on his head, 
 
 And knocked him down, when he gently said, 
 
 'It would be an easy thing for me 
 
 To do the same thing unto thee; 
 
 But this would not please the Father above, 
 
 Who bids us for evil return deeds of love.' 
 
 To-day, as I lay fast asleep by a tree, 
 
 A hornet alighted, and would have stung me. 
 
 But your Dick observed the danger, and flew 
 
 To the place where I was, to my rescue." 
 
 Grandpa's heart was filled beyond measure. 
 
 "This gives me the greatest pleasure. 
 
 My dear Dick," he said; "there are but few 
 
 Who such generous and noble deeds would do. 
 
90 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 
 
 You tried to keep hidden from us your merit, 
 
 And from your enemy we had to learn it. 
 
 To return good for evil — forgive our foe — 
 
 Is the noblest action that one can do. 
 
 I, therefore, without hesitation, 
 
 Proclaim to all my declaration, — 
 
 The diamond is yours ; and, though dazzling and clear, 
 
 It shines not so bright as your action, my dear ; 
 
 And I hope it ever will recall to you. 
 
 That there is nothing that we in secfet do, 
 
 But what, some time or other, it wiQ be known ; 
 
 For every one reaps what he has sown. 
 
 You all well began, and I hope wiU continue 
 
 To follow the path which is trodden by few; 
 
 For, though hard the conquest of passions and ease. 
 
 Its certain reward is happiness and peace." 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 CtttVMICLEEE,'s DEATH AND FUNERAL. THE END. 
 
 Thus age had crowned him wise and good, 
 
 And round him gathered a very large brood 
 
 Of grandchildren, in feathers bright, 
 
 Peeping and chirping with delight. 
 
 He taught them all to seek the truth. 
 
 And gather knowledge in their youth j 
 
 To be industrious, gentle, kind, 
 
 And all their parents' counsel mind, 
 
 That they in future years might be 
 
 Good members of society. 
 
 So great his wisdom, each one prayed 
 
 That death from him might long be staid. 
 
 But, on one sultry summer day, 
 
 When lowering clouds hung dark and gray, 
 
92 THE LIFE AND ADVENTXTRES 
 
 And lightning flashed with frightful glare, 
 And thunder peals smote on the air, 
 Threatening the while, in angry strain. 
 To deluge all the earth with rain. 
 Some little chicks from home did stray, 
 But where they'd gone no one could say. 
 So grandpapa, with anxious care. 
 Began to search round every where, 
 Until he'd found them, one and all. 
 And brought them to their mothers' stall. 
 But, by running fast and getting wet, 
 A bad fever in his blood was set. 
 Which made him very weak and ill; 
 And, notwithstanding doctors' skiU, 
 And all the care that love can give, 
 'Twas found, too soon, he could not live ; 
 And when ten painful days were past. 
 He calmly, gently, breathed his last. 
 The sad news spread both far and near, 
 And all the friends of Chanticleer 
 
Tliey do for him the last sad rite 
 Due those that pass from mortal siyht. 
 
OF CHANTICLEER^ 93 
 
 Came now to look a last adieu 
 On one whose virtues all of them knew. 
 From morn till night, in crowds they s< )od, 
 Lamenting loud that one so good, 
 •So wise and just, so great and brave. 
 Must now be buried in the grave. 
 The funeral came : from far and neai 
 Crowds came to honor Chanticleer, 
 And do for him the last sad rite 
 Due those that pass from mortal sigb^ 
 And 'twas a novel scene to view: 
 Each mourning hen and roolter too 
 Were clothed in black from top to toe; 
 This you'd have liked to see, I know. 
 The slowly-moving, lengthened train 
 Sang funeral hymns in solemn strain. 
 And tears bedimmed each mourner's .eye, 
 Till not a single one was dry. 
 How deep must be that sense of woe, 
 When roosters' tears can freely flow. 
 
94 THE LIFE AND ADVENTXJEES 
 
 And grave old hens, with moistened eye, 
 Can, just like children, sob and cry! 
 And in the train, besides relations. 
 Were birds of different ranks and stations, 
 Who came to pay the honor due 
 To Chanticleer, the wise and true. 
 Peacocks their gorgeous pliunes displayed; 
 And geese in sober gray arrayed. 
 And troops of swans in spotless white, 
 And files of ravens black as night, 
 All came to show how large a part 
 He'd filled in every mourner's heart. 
 At length they reached the quiet spot 
 Where was the family burying lot. 
 When aU commenced to sob anew, 
 And make a very great ado; 
 It almost seemed as if they'd try 
 To see which could the loudest cry. 
 The sexton, draped in a long, black gown, 
 ' Then slowly let the coffin down; 
 
OF CHANTICLEER. 95 
 
 Then flapped his wings with solemn air, 
 
 And thus addressed the mourners there : 
 
 '■'My friends," he said, "'tis sad, I know, 
 
 To lose a friend! You've found it so. 
 
 With grateful hearts, then, let us cherish 
 
 His noble deeds; they cannot perish. 
 
 To honor him, his counsels heed; 
 
 Your services he does not need. 
 
 But he can still serve you. How? I'll tell: 
 
 By the noble life which he lived so well." 
 
 And slowly now they all walked home 
 
 To the different places whence they'd come. 
 
 And when the family were alone, 
 
 The oldest son bade them be done 
 
 With crying, which availed them nought. 
 
 "I feel as deeply as I ought 
 
 The heavy loss we've all sustained; 
 
 But fruitless grief mist be restrained. 
 
 In our father's death, which #,11 deplore, 
 
 A friend has left this changing shore, 
 
96 
 
 THE LIFE OF CHANTICLEEE,. 
 
 For wisdom renowned, for virtues esteemed, 
 For goodness of heart unequalled, it seemed, — 
 Wlio has left us his life as a legacy raje. 
 Let us aU strive to follow his example so fair. 
 So that death, when, he comes, as he comes to all, 
 Shall find each prepared to answer the call. 
 
 Here ends my history, children dear, 
 Of that wonderful rooster. Chanticleer. 
 Whether you'U see his like, I doubt; 
 But should it ever come about, '•' 
 
 That, you of a wonderful rooster hear. 
 He must be a descendant of Chanticleer. 
 
Sr.i >r.r>i'xiB 
 
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