“Get out of mine!” growled Mr. Dog, and he grabbed Mr. Peacock by the neck, shook him hard and tore out a great mouthful of feathers.
More dead than alive, the poor Peacock ran and ran and ran, and never stopped till he got home.
The geese and turkeys looked at him in great surprise. “Who is this wretched, shabby bird?” they asked each other. “It cannot possibly be Mr. Peacock?”
“Yes,” sobbed the poor creature, “it is I; but I have left my pride behind. If you will only let me stay with you I will do my best to hatch eggs.”
But he never could.
LITTLE BOY
Mother, the hen is cackling;