"Cock-a-doodle-doo," crowed the rooster on the weather-vane, but he really thought he was saying "How-de-do-de-do?" He was a splendid fellow, for he was pure gold and shone in the sunlight; he turned this way and that for everybody to see him, until the common fowls in the barn-yard envied him and wished themselves in his place, though if they had only known it they were far better off than he, for they could pick up corn and worms, while he was obliged to stand there always, which was not so pleasant on rainy days. He was terribly hoarse, too, from the damp weather, and it made his voice sound like a rusty hinge that needed oiling. "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" he said to Laurie, and Laurie bowed the best way he could, which was not very easy considering that he was standing on the top of the barn roof. "So you are the little boy who has come to visit at the farm-house; I saw you drive in. I see everything and everybody, people come and people go; it is a mistake to think that one must travel to see the world: I prefer to remain at home, but then every one is not as bright as I"--he certainly was conceited--"still I am never idle," he continued, "for I have my work to do; the farmer cannot do without me. I warn him of a change of weather, but not everyone who is changeable can be depended upon." Here the pigeon interrupted him to tell him what the wind had said of a storm coming, and he promised to look toward the east for it. The wind had certainly got up, there was no doubting it; the weathercock and pigeon were right, it was going to rain, big drops were pattering down on the roof. [Illustration: Beside him stood the turkey-gobbler] Laurie looked round to find the pigeon, but he had disappeared, no doubt for fear he would get his feathers wet. "Serves you right, serves you right!" sounded close to Laurie's ear, and beside him stood the turkey-gobbler. "So you thought the pigeons just flew round in a silly sort of way, picking up crumbs did you," he said--or gobbled I should say, his voice was so cross--"and you didn't suppose we had our work to do as well as the people on the farm, did you?" he really looked very alarming as he ruffled up his feathers and spread out his tail like a great fan. "Serves you right, to be left out in the rain this way," he went on, "next time you'll have better manners, I hope, than to call any one a rude bird." Laurie was very much frightened indeed--it was raining harder and harder; he started to run: patter, patter, patter, sounded the feet of the turkey behind him, "gobble, gobble,"--patter, patter,--no, it was only the rain drops this time, he was quite out of breath, where was he? [Illustration: The turkey-gobbler]