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But the wind caught him up, and whirled him through the air so quickly that Medio Pollito could scarcely breathe, and his heart beat against his side till he thought it would break. 'Oh, wind! at last he gasped out, 'if you hurry me along like this you will kill me. Do let me rest a moment, or but he was so breathless that he could not finish his sentence. 'Ah!
And if you go to Madrid, and walk through the streets till you come to the highest church, you will see Medio Pollito perched on his one leg on the steeple, with his one wing drooping at his side, and gazing sadly out of his one eye over the town. Spanish Tradition. Caliph Chasid, of Bagdad, was resting comfortably on his divan one fine afternoon.
'It is your own fault for going there, answered Medio Pollito. 'I can't waste all my morning stopping here to help you. Just shake yourself off, and don't hinder me, for I am off to Madrid to see the King, and hoppity-kick, hoppity-kick, away stumped Medio Pollito in great glee, for the towers and roofs of Madrid were now in sight.
Then the fire began to burn and scald Medio Pollito, and he danced and hopped from one side of the pot to the other, trying to get away from the heat, and crying out in pain: Fire, fire! do not scorch me like this; you can't think how it hurts. 'Ah! Medio Pollito, answered the fire, 'you would not help me when I was dying away in the wood. You are being punished.
Medio Pollito, cried the fire, in a weak, wavering voice as the half-chick approached, 'in a few minutes I shall go quite out, unless you put some sticks and dry leaves upon me. Do help me, or I shall die! 'Help you, indeed! answered Medio Pollito. 'I have other things to do. Gather sticks for yourself, and don't trouble me.
Oh! how wet and clammy the water felt as it went over Medio Pollito's head, making his feathers cling to his side. 'Water, water! he cried in his despair, 'do have pity upon me and do not wet me like this. 'Ah! Medio Pollito, replied the water, 'you would not help me when I was a little stream away on the fields, now you must be punished.
But as he was hopping past one of the back windows the King's cook saw him: 'Here is the very thing I want, he exclaimed, 'for the King has just sent a message to say that he must have chicken broth for his dinner, and opening the window he stretched out his arm, caught Medio Pollito, and popped him into the broth-pot that was standing near the fire.
'To Madrid, Medio Pollito! exclaimed his mother; 'why, you silly chick, it would be a long journey for a grown-up cock, and a poor little thing like you would be tired out before you had gone half the distance. No, no, stay at home with your mother, and some day, when you are bigger, we will go a little journey together.
But Medio Pollito had made up his mind, and he would not listen to his mother's advice, nor to the prayers and entreaties of his brothers and sisters. 'What is the use of our all crowding each other up in this poky little place? he said.
Now though Medio Pollito was such an odd, helpless-looking little thing, his mother soon found that he was not at all willing to remain under her wing and protection. Indeed, in character he was as unlike his brothers and sisters as he was in appearance. They were good, obedient chickens, and when the old hen chicked after them, they chirped and ran back to her side.
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