“We know you’re not pleased, old fellow,” said Billy as he put him into a coop and held it down, “but you’re going to be put into a safe place. No pleading off for you! Now, I’ve got you fixed.”
“Yes, you bad boy!” said Mary Frances.
At twilight, however, a little girl crept out with a plate of lettuce to the old hen-coop where Feather Flop was prisoner.
“Feather Flop,” Mary Frances whispered softly, “Feather Flop!” but there was no answer.
She stooped down and looked into the coop. At first she didn’t see the rooster, then she espied him leaning up close to the farthest corner.
“Why, Feather Flop,” she exclaimed, “are you ill? Why didn’t you answer?”
“I’m not sick,” muttered Feather Flop.
“Why, what is the matter then, old fellow?” said Mary Frances.
“Are you going to let me out?” asked the rooster sullenly.
“Not to-night, Feather Flop, I’m afraid. I think, myself, you need a little punishment. Tell me, why did you do it?”