his golden head; but he was restless, and his leaves had put on a pale green.
I knocked off one of the boards of the box, and forth came Old Speck, clucking and bristling, closely followed by the black chicken. About the lawn they went, "Cluck, cluck, cluck; peep, peep, peep." I never have seen a chicken before or since that could peep like this little black bunch of feathers. His note was as loud and as clear as a canary's, and as persistent as it was delightful. "Spring, spring, spring," he seemed to be saying; "Spring, spring, spring," from morning until night.
"What, have you got chickens?" asked a neighbor. "Yes, one," I said. "One, I should think that there were twenty," said the friend. So we named him the Peep, and took this bold little chick to our hearts, and he became as one of the family.
Many were the adventures that befell him, and many a time Old Speck's courage and wisdom saved him from destruction. Once Red Tail bore down upon them when they were far from cover, and Old Speck beat at him furiously with her wings, and for a moment kept him at a distance. But, fortunately for them both, Master Frisky happened to hear the noise and came running, barking so fiercely that the terrible hawk flew away. Master Frisky had a great liking for the Peep from the first, and if he saw the cat looking longingly at him, he would chase the cat under the barn or up a tree.
