Sir Cock-a-doodle, too, took a shine to the precocious youngster; and he took it upon himself to keep the hens from pecking it, which was quite a condescension on his part.
When it was time to go to roost, the Peep would get upon his mother's back, and then she would fly upon a low roost, and from that to a higher one. When they were safe upon the roost, the Peep would wiggle down from her back, and then walk carefully along to Sir Cock-a-doodle, and adroitly slip between his legs, and there he would stand upon the perch all night.
It was a comical and amusing picture, the great white rooster, tall and dignified, and the bit of a chicken, that came barely up to his spurs, standing between his legs; and when once safely settled for the night, the Peep would swell up and try to look like Sir Cock-a-doodle. He seemed to say, "Don't you see us, Sir Cock-a-doodle and I? We are the guardians of the roost."
It is hard to conjecture what this young chicken might have become, or what he might have accomplished, had it not been for a most lamentable "if."
One morning he was standing upon the perch between the legs of his protector as usual. It was not yet light, but his bright eyes were wide open. He could hear the hens and Sir Cock-a-doodle breathing peacefully, and through the window he could see the pale morning stars.
