Now it happened on the very night of which we are speaking, that Miss Peck had gone to bed in particularly ill-humour; for just as they were all entering the hen-house that afternoon, Cock-a-doodle had chosen to help that flaunting young creature, Miss Spangle, up the hen-house stairs instead of herself, though she had complained of a violent spasm just a moment before. Miss Peck therefore, being, as I have said, very much out of sorts, sat upon her perch with one eye shut, and the other scowling down upon Miss Spangle, who slept just beneath her; and her sufferings from cramp and chills were so uncommonly acute, that she could obtain no ease except by continually twitching her legs up and down, flapping her wings, shaking herself violently, and making a very unpleasant noise in her throat, as if she were choking. No one taking any notice of this uncomfortable state, though the slumbers of several of the neighbours were very much disturbed in consequence, Miss Peck grew more and more restless and spiteful; and seeing Miss Spangle in the full enjoyment of a delightful nap, she flung herself suddenly down upon her with such force as to push her off the perch, and send her rolling on the hen-house door. Miss Peck herself, though she tried hard to keep her balance, fell over on her back, and screamed violently, which woke Cock-a-doodle, who, of course, insisted on knowing what was the matter.
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“Oh, it is only Peck in her spasms,” croaked out two or three sleepy old hens.
“No, no, it is me,” cried poor Spangle from the ground; “Miss Peck has thrown me off my perch, and broken my head all over.”
Cock-a-doodle’s indignation on hearing this is not to be told. He flew down instantly from the upper storey where he lodged, would not listen to one word Miss Peck had to say, in spite of her groans and lamentations, and examined Spangle’s head with the greatest kindness and attention. It was found to be not at all seriously injured, so Cock-a-doodle said he would assist her up-stairs again with the greatest pleasure, but that Peck should remain where she was all night, and if she attempted to disobey him he would come down and punish her severely. Miss Peck screamed, protested, said it was all Spangle’s fault, that Cock-a-doodle did not behave like a gentleman, that both her legs were broken, and that she hoped he would come to be hung, as she knew many of his family had been before him.
“Hold your tongue,” cried Cock-a-doodle at last, after she had been going on in this way for some time; “you have hindered me so long by your nonsense that it is just crowing-time again.” So he shouted out cock-a-doodle-doo as loud as he could, and then putting his head under his wing, composed himself to sleep again, as if nothing had been the matter.
In the meantime Miss Peck stood muttering on one leg in a corner of the hen-house, and thinking how she should be revenged, when she heard a low rap-tap-tap at the door. She took no notice of it at first, being too full of her own troubles to attend to anything else; but very soon it was repeated, and on her hobbling rather nearer to the door, and turning her head a little on one side to listen the better, she distinctly heard her own name repeated two or three times in a very low voice on the outside. Miss Peck, though “all of a tremble,” as she said herself afterwards, had sufficient presence of mind just to look up, and make sure that Cock-a-doodle and all the others were asleep, before she answered, in as sweet a tone as possible,
“Who’s there? Who wants the unfortunate Peck?”
“It is me,” cried our friend Wilful, delighted to find that Miss Peck was awake: “open the door immediately, my dearest Miss Peck, for I want to speak to you on business of great importance.”