‘Let dogs delight To bark and bite For God hath made them so―― Let bears and lions Growl and fight, For ’tis their nature too.’ “But it is quite otherwise with human beings; even if brute animals are left to tear each other in pieces, mankind are taught that peace, kindness and harmony are not only the duty, but the happiness of the human race.” From observing the hen and her chickens, Jack’s attention was drawn to the other inhabitants of the poultry yard. The strutting turkey, the hissing, gobbling goose, the waddling duck, the screaming guinea-hen, and the fantastic peacock, each in turn became the subject of his investigation, and each seemed to him to have a character and interest peculiar to itself. If I had the power faithfully to paint all his feelings, and space to detail all his thoughts, I could make the story entertaining, but I must content myself with a very general account of the matter. I believe there are very few persons who have not been often amused in pausing for a half hour and noticing the various airs, manners and customs, of the feathered inhabitants of the poultry yard. The hen, stealing to her nest, deposits her eggs, and then comes forth with an obstreperous cackle, to tell everybody what she has been about. “Cut――cut――cadau cut―― Lay an egg every day And have to go barefoot!” The rooster――he that is “cock of the walk,” leads forth his body of hens, and when he finds a good fat grub, calls his favorites to come and feast on the delicate morsel. Like a polite old beau, he seems to prefer the happiness of the other sex to his own; his tones and manner are soft and insinuating, and he becomes the very personification of gallantry. While he is thus tender to the females of the flock, he is harsh and unsparing to his rivals of the masculine gender. If one of them comes near, he is sure to feel his spurs, and, after the rebuke, to hear the shrill triumphant crow of the conqueror. The turkey-cock struts round and round, grating the edges of his wings upon the ground, and displays his purple wattles, his crimson comb, and his black, bristly beard, to the admiring gaze of the tender, transcendental hens of his flock. The guinea-hen, creeping afar, amid some thicket, comes running home with a terrible cry, as if thieves, robbers and murderers were at hand! The peacock, situated upon some conspicuous mound, spreads out his tail, set with a thousand gorgeous gems, and, lost in admiration, appears to enjoy a sublime self-conceit. Amid all this exultation, the vulgar duck is dabbling in the mud, only deigning to utter his quack――quack――quack, at intervals, few and far between. At the same time, the silent and sentimental goose is swimming upon the bosom of the muddy pool, now and then plunging its long neck into the recesses of the element upon which it floats――happy if perchance some insect, lizard, or tadpole may reward its search.