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I challenge you, isn't she perfect?" "That is a perilous assertion," Monsieur chuckled, "since there is a Persian proverb that 'to be perfect is to be damned." "Well, she'd rather be damned than ugly, if I know anything about girls and I do!" Tommy declared. "Isn't that right, gezabo?" "Isn't what right? That you know so much about girls? Bah! It is a young rooster's foolish talk!
There ain't any chance for law where one rooster comes over into another rooster's yard and gets done up. Moral: Keep roosters in where the lightnin' won't strike 'em." When they topped Hickory Hill they had a survey of Cap'n Sproul's acres. Here and there on the brown mould of his garden behind the big barn were scattered yellow and gray specks.
It stood on tiny hen's feet, and at the top was a rooster's head. With their shrill, childish voices they called out loud: "Izboushka, Izboushka! turn thy back to the forest and thy front to us!" The hut did as they commanded.
"Are you satisfied that I told the truth?" asked Blacky. Reddy nodded. Sooner or later the crookedest trail will straighten. Bowser the Hound. At the sound of that rooster's voice on the other side of the little swamp, Reddy became a changed Fox.
She stooped to open the door, when a shrill voice shouted at her. "Look out! Look out! The ol' rooster's mad!" Aunt Judith was startled, and Gyp was delighted. "Why were you meddling with the hens?" she asked, in quick wrath. "Don't hurt 'em to be watched, does it?" was the saucy answer. Aunt Judith looked at the imp-like figure astride the fence.
His pangs took his mind off the other affairs. He was pallid and his lips were blue when Emissary Orne came waddling into the office. Mr. Orne, in addition to other characteristics that suggested a fowl, had a sagging dewlap, and the February nip had colored it into resemblance to a rooster's wattles. When he came in Mr. Orne's face was sagging, in general.
In one place, some one is caressing his game cock, passing his hand over his brilliant plumage; in another, a man examines and counts the number of scales on the rooster's legs, for that, they say, is a sign of valor. The battles of the heroes are related.
He could give advice, but not live up to it himself, for while he was gobbling, Peter-Kins leaped from the rooster's back to his own, and with shrunken feathers, he began running around and around the yard, just as the rooster had done, too frightened to know what he was doing, or to pay attention to his own advice, while all the chickens were now cackling at him, "Run under the fence!
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