"What are you going to do?" they asked.
"I am going to sing like the Big Rooster," he said.
He flapped his wings and tried, but no sound came. Again he flapped and tried. This time a sound came, but such a sound! He nearly jumped off the tub with surprise at the queer noise. His brothers and sisters ran away in a fright.
"Don't do that," they begged. "It is terrible. It sounds like a dog barking."
"Perhaps it will be better next time," said Chick-a-pick. "I'll try again."
He tried again, whilst the others stood against the fence to watch. Flap, flap, flap! "Adoo! Adoo!" he shouted. Oh dear! why wouldn't it come right? It was really a very ugly noise.
"It is dreadful," said the others. "You will never be able to sing like the Big Rooster, so you may as well give up trying."
"I shall go on trying," said Chick-a-pick, "for that is the only way to learn. Go away if you don't like the noise. I am going to practise."
He practised. Presently the sound grew a little better. He practised again the next day; the sound grew better still. He practised again the third day, and at last, hurrah! out came a real "Cock-a-doodle-doo!"
He did it again and again. Yes, there was no mistake. The song was not so loud and clear as the Big Rooster's, but it was the real song for all that. Some day it would grow more powerful.