Chantecler
[Going briskly towards him, with a look that forbids discussion.] Quite! And let there be no idle quacking and paltering! [The Ganders go off in haste.] You, Chicken, your task, as you know, is to pick off slugs, your full number before evening being thirty-two.—You, Cockerel, go practise your crow. Four hundred times cry Cock-a-doodle-doo in hearing of the echo!
The Cockerel
[Slightly mortified.] The echo—?
Chantecler
That is what I was doing to limber up my glottis before I was rid of the egg-shell sticking to my tail!
A Hen
[Airily.] None of this is particularly interesting!
Chantecler
Everything is interesting! Pray go and sit on the eggs you have been entrusted with! [To another Hen.] You, walk among the roses and verbenas, and gobble every creature threatening them. Ha, ha! If the caterpillar thinks we will make him a gift of our flowers he can stroke his belly—with his back! [To another.] You, hie to the rescue of cabbages in old neglected corners, where the grasshopper lays siege to them with his vigorous battering-ram! [To the remaining Hens.] You—[Catching sight of the Old Hen, whose shaking, senile head has lifted the basket-lid.] Ah, there you are, Nursie! Good day! [She gazes at him admiringly.] Well, have I grown?
The Old Hen
Sooner or later, tadpole becomes toad!
Chantecler
True! [To the Hens, resuming his tone of command.] Ladies, stand in line! Your orders are to peck in the fields. Off at a quick-step, go!
The White Hen
[To the Grey Hen.] Are you coming?
The Grey Hen
Not a word! I intend to stay behind, to see the Cuckoo. [She hides behind the basket.]
Chantecler
You, little tufted hen, was it just my fancy that you looked sulky falling into line?