He was a smart little bird! All gold from the comb on his head to the spurs on his feet, and he twinkled and shone so in the sunshine that he was quite dazzling to look at. He flapped his wings, pecked Alexander playfully behind the ear, and then crowed: "Cock-a-doodle-doo-oo-oo!" and it sounded for all the world as if he were saying: "How do you do-oo-oo?"
"George is going to follow his fortune," said Alexander. "Can you put us on the right road?"
"I'd better come with you for part of the way," replied the weathercock. "It's just along down there."
"How do you know the way so well, please?" asked George.
"I know the way to everywhere. A brother of mine stands on the roof of your home. Haven't you ever seen him point?"
"Yes, of course," said George; "I've often stood and watched him turning round and round."
"Well, you don't suppose he's doing that for fun, do you?" asked the cock, looking at him with a bright and shining red eye. "He's pointing out the way."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Well, he's pointing out the way to there.... Every one wants to go there, some time or other. If you don't want to go, why did you ask me?"
"Come along!" said Alexander. "George will understand by and by. He's a stranger here, you know."