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The Tale of Henrietta Hen, a short story by Arthur Scott Bailey |
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VII - WARNING THE ROOSTER |
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_ VII - WARNING THE ROOSTER "Good Afternoon!" Henrietta Hen greeted the Rooster. He had not seen her as she walked towards him. And when she spoke he hastily arranged his two long tail-feathers in what he considered a more becoming droop. "Good afternoon, madam!" he answered--for the Rooster prided himself that he was always polite to the ladies. "Er--there's nothing wrong, I hope," he added quickly as he noticed an odd gleam in Henrietta Hen's eye. "Yes--there is," she said. The cockerels might fear the Rooster, but Henrietta certainly didn't. She considered him a good deal of a braggart. Indeed, she even had an idea that she could have whipped him herself, had she cared to be so unladylike as to fight. "I've been bothered for a long time because you crow so early in the morning. You make such a racket that you wake me up every day." The Booster hemmed and hawed. Somehow he felt uncomfortable. "That's unfortunate," he stammered. And then he had a happy thought. "Anyhow," he continued, with a smile at Henrietta, "you don't look as if you lacked for sleep, madam. You grow more beautiful every day." Henrietta Hen admitted that it was so. "But," she said, "I believe I'd be even handsomer if I weren't disturbed so early. I don't like to get up while it's dark. So I'm going to ask you to delay your crowing, from now on, until after sunrise." "Impossible!" cried the Rooster. "I'm sorry to disoblige you, madam. But what you ask can't be done." "That's just what the cockerel said!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. "The cockerel!" the Rooster echoed angrily. "Which one? Has one of those upstarts been talking about me? Point him out to me and I'll soon teach him a lesson." Henrietta Hen said that she hadn't noticed which cockerel it was. Somehow they all looked alike to her. "Good!" the Rooster cried. "Then I'll have to whip them all, to make sure of punishing the guilty one." He looked very fierce. "Don't be absurd!" Henrietta told him. "I asked one of the cockerels to give you a message about not crowing so early. And he declined. He said it wouldn't do any good." "It wouldn't have done him any good," the Rooster declared, stamping a foot and thrusting his bill far forward, to show Henrietta Hen how brave he was. "What's the matter?" she inquired. "Have you eaten something that disagrees with you?" The Rooster couldn't help looking foolish. Henrietta Hen believed in letting him know that she stood in no awe of him. And while he was feeling ill at ease she hastened to tell him that hereafter he must hold onto his first crow until after sunrise. "I can't do that," he told her again, unhappily. "Don't you dare let go of it!" she warned him. "If that first crow gets away from you while it's dark, there'll be so many others to follow it that I shan't be able to close an eye for even a cat-nap." _ |
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