BILL Nye's Rooster.

Otago Witness, Issue 1913, 9 October 1890, Page 38

BILL Nye's Rooster.

I or.cc owned a large white draught rooster who stood about seven hands high, and had feet on him which would readily break down a whole corn field if he walked through it. Yet he lacked the courage of his convictions, and socially was not regarded as a success. Leading hens seemed to regard him as a good-hearted rooster, and seemed to wonder that he did not get on better in a social way. He had a rich baritone voice and was a good provider, digging up large areas of garden and giving the hens what was left after he got through, and yet they gave their smiles to far more dissolute though perhaps brighter minds. So I took him away awhile, and let him see something of the world by allowing him to visit among the neighbours and see society a little. Then I brought him home agaic, and one night coloured him with diamond dyes so that he was a beautiful scarlet. His name was Sumner. I took Sumner the following morning and turned him loose among his' old neighbours. Surprise was written on every face. He realised his advantage, and the first thing he did was to greet the astonished crowd with a guttural remark which made them jump. He then stepped over to a hated rival, and ate oS about 15 cents' worth of his large, red, pompadour comb. He now remarked in a courteous way to a email

- Poland-China hen, who seemed to be at the head of all works of social improvement* that we were having rather a backward spring. Then he picked out the eye of another rival, much to his surprise, and went on with the conversation. I never saw prosperity knock the sense out cf a rooster so soon. He lost my sympathy at once, and I resolved to let him carve out his own career as best he might. Gradually his tail feathers grew grey and faded, but he wore his head high. He was arrogant, and made the hens go worming for his breakfast by daylight. Then he would get mad at the food and be real hateful, and step on the little chickens with his great big feet. But as his new feathers began to come in folks got on to him, as Justinian has it, and the other roosters began to brighten op and also blow up their biceps muscles. One day he was especially mean at breakfast-. A large fat worm, brought to him by the flower of his harem, had a slight gamey flavour, he seemed to think, and so he got mad and bit several chickens with his great coarse beak, and stepped on some more and made a perfect show of himself. At this moment a small bantam wearing one eye still in mourning danced up and kicked Sumner's eye out. Then another rival knocked the stuffing for a whole sofa pillow out of Sumner, and retired. By this time the surprised and gratified hens stepped back and gave the boys a chance. The bantam now put on his trim little telegraph climbers, and, going up Mr Sumner's powerful frame at about four jumps, he put in some repairs on the giant's features, presented his bill, and returned. By 9 o'clock Sumner didn't have features enough left for a Sunday paper. He looked as if he had been through the elevated station at City Hall and Brooklyn Bridge. He looked up sadly at me with his one eye as who should say, " Have you got any more of that there red paint left 1 " But I shook my head at him, and he went away into a little patch of catnip and stayed there four days. After that you could get that rooster to do anything for you — except lay. He was gentle to a fault. He would run errands for those hens and turn an ice cream freezer for them all day on lawn festival days while others were gay. He never murmured nor repined. He was kind to the little chickens, and often spoke to them about the general advantages of humility.— Bill Nye.