(Page [Fifty-Five])
But instead of coming down the trunk as he had before, Peter-Kins ran out on one of the long, slender, drooping limbs that reached nearly to the ground, and when it bent within three feet of the earth, he dropped and lit on the back of a rooster.
Then the fun began, for the poor old rooster was beside himself with fright, and ran around and around the yard, trying to get between the palings of the fence, into holes no larger than his head, into chicken coops and out, in amongst the other fowls, squawking and gurgling as he went. Then all of a sudden he was relieved of his rider, for Peter-Kins leaped from his back onto a turkey gobbler that was strutting around the yard all swelled out with pride, every feather spread out to its fullest extent. Now another race began, the turkey gobbling and the monkey chattering as they made the rounds.
Now while Peter-Kins had been riding the rooster, this very gobbler called out, "You stupid fellow! Stop running round and round! Go under the fence and scratch that beast off your back!"
But alas, for him! He could give advice, but not live up to it himself, for while he was gobbling, Peter-Kins leaped from the rooster's back to his own, and with shrunken feathers, he began running around and around the yard, just as the rooster had done, too frightened to know what he was doing, or to pay attention to his own advice, while all the chickens were now cackling at him, "Run under the fence! Run under the fence and scratch him off!"
"Run under the fence and scratch him off!" quacked the ducks.
"Run under the fence and scratch him off!" hissed the geese.