Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1893-06-06

poultry yard. His round breast was
sheathed in iridescent feathers of vel
vet black; his back and wings were
Respondent with shingling of golden
feathers, and on the crown of his head,
just back of his high-pointed coral
comb, was most fascinating pompon
of jet and yellow feathers.
Whenever out walking with the hens,
he would lead the way to the meadow
brook or to the spring, where, under
the pretense of searching for the
choicest worms, he would stare Narcis.
sus-liSe at his reflection in the water,
and decide that he was the handsomest
chicken in the world.
But one day his vanity had great
blow. Some person had sent Farmer
Dandelion by express a beautiful white
rooster, with low rose comb, set
against a topknot or pompon of glisten-
ing black feathers so soft and thick
that they almost hooded his face and
gave him a most strikingly elegant APP
pearance, that held the admiration of
every chicken for half mile around.
"Ah, don't talk of Wang any longer"
he overheard a guinea hen say; 81
have never seen so handsome a chicken
in all my life as this Monsieur White
Feathers; that black top-knot is the
last straw. 1t makes his beauty COM
plete."
"You are right" assented Mrs. Duck
"Wang is fine-loolzing bird, but he
could never hold a candle to Monsieur
White Feathers"
Wang was behind the lilac bush, but,
hearing every word of this converse
ton, almost doubted his ears. Some
Of the other chickens who were with
him heard it, too, but they pecl1ed
away at the grass very solemnly, and
politely pretended to have never no.
ticed a word.
Wang crowed once or twice to hide
his injured feelings, and made some
commonplace remark about the wealth
err; nevertheless, he staid away all that
night, thinking how he could get rid of
this eclipsing Monsieur White Feathers.
''If I could only fight him off the
farm, but then he is large and his spurs
are sharper than mine; if 1 could but
push him into the spring or brook, but
he doesn't go near the water, to see
how he looks; if could get the dog to
catch him, but then the dog is tied up;
no, l must try to poison him, then
natural death. That is my best plan. ~
You see, Wang had come of Medici
stock, though he did not know it, and
he took very kindly to poisoning.
How glad he was when morning
came. Long before Monsieur White
Feathers had thought of leaving the
perch, Wang was up and down in the
meadow, searching for certain beetle,
which tasted very good, but was sure
death to any chicken that swallowed
it. Finding it at last, at the root of a
thistle, he took it in his bill, and carried
1t to the poultry yard.
By this time all the chickens were up
and out, and they wondered very much
to find Wang astir so much earlier than
they. He was apt to be little late in
his morning hours.
Good morning, Wang, where have
you been?" they asked, one after an
other.
"Ahi Just down here in the meadow, "
he answered, indifferently. ''See here,
Monsieur White Feathers, have you
ever eaten one of these beetles? They
are very fine; quite epicurean, in fact;
brought this home for you"
THANK you, you are very kind" said
Monsieur White Feathers, apparently
accepting the beetle, but by some
chance he dropped it on the ground
and it scurried so quickly out of sight
that it was never seen again.
Wang did not eat much breakfast thai
morning, but, saving as much corn us
was possible from the general break
fast scramble, carried it kernel 10y
lscrnel TO an old gray goose, DO rheu
matte that he could not get out Of tht
shlsken.housS. -