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From sheds new-roofed with Carrara Came Chanticleer's muffled crow, The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, And still fluttered down the snow. I stood and watched by the window The noiseless work of the sky, And the sudden flurries of snowbirds, Like brown leaves whirling by.

Accordingly, an action was brought for damages; but through some little informality, the plaintiff was defeated, and had to pay his own and Mr. Chanticleer's lawyers' costs. Mr. Sharpe Vulture advised a second action, which was tried, I remember, at the Assizes just twelve months after the assault complained of. Counsel were engaged on each side. Mr. Badger was for Chanticleer, and the Hon. Mr.

First, it was strong and clear, full of assurance and freedom, qualities admirably suited to the song of a bird of Chanticleer's disposition; a lusty, ringing strain, not sung in the clouds or from a lofty perch midway between earth and heaven, but with feet firmly planted on the soil, and earthly; and compared with the notes of the grove like a versified utterance of Walt Whitman compared with the poems of the true inspired children of song Blake, Shelley, Poe.

"When they be'n't too poor to have time to sing," said grandfather James. "I tell ye, neighbours, when the pinch comes," said the tranter: "when the oldest daughter's boots be only a size less than her mother's, and the rest o' the flock close behind her. A sharp time for a man that, my sonnies; a very sharp time! Chanticleer's comb is a-cut then, 'a believe."

"Madam, these words are chanticleer's, not mine; I honour dames, and think their sex divine!" No human being ever collected so many of the good sayings and doings of women as you, Eusebius. I am not, then, surprised that, having read the "Rights of Women," you are come to the determination to take up "The Wrongs of Women." The wrongs of women, alas!

Nevertheless the sound, especially so loud and grating a one, in which the bray of the donkey was so evenly mixed with the hideous scream of the peacock before rain, was an inopportune and impudent one; and the Colonel would have been very likely to wring chanticleer's neck if it had happened to come within the clutch of his fingers.

Luckily there was a gap there, and Tom was able to get through, and thus escape from any further insult. He heard Chanticleer's voice shouting after him; Tom did not stay to listen, but ran towards the wood as fast as his legs would carry him.

The policeman, thrown off his guard by Chanticleer's quietness, walked by his side without holding him, and of this my neighbour was not slow to avail himself; for just as they had passed a narrow street, he suddenly ran back, and, with a loud noise, flew along the pavement as if twenty Sharpe Vultures were pursuing him.

There is always the look of a flowerbed at dawn, before Chanticleer's second call has brought the sun to sharpen outlines, before dreams and night-mist have altogether quitted the place. Plenty of warm wood colours are there, of lake blues, of smothered reds.

Napoleon's crib also made its way into the parlour when the cold weather came; and while Napoleon's legs stayed under cover pretty well his voice, like Chanticleer's, arose before the sun. Frederick, Wilberforce and Reginald slept in one room, Marie Louise, Henrietta and Guinevere in another. In pleasant weather, Rosemary joined her sisters, while Harold and Rutherford fell in with the other boys.