"Little Hen," he cried, "help me! Oh, my stomach! Oh! Oh!"
He was so sick that the little Hen had to give him some hot peppermint and put a mustard plaster on his stomach.
After that shouldn't you suppose he would do what she told him? But he didn't. As soon as he was well he was just as careless and disobedient as before.
One day he went out to the meadow and he just ran and ran and ran until he got all overheated and perspired. Then he went down to the brook and began drinking cold water.
"Oh, my dear," the little Hen cried, "you mustn't drink cold water while you're overheated! Wait and cool off!"
But would the Rooster wait and cool off? No! He just drank that cold water and drank it until he could drink no more.
Then he got a chill and the poor little Hen had to drag him home and put him to bed and run for the Doctor.
The Doctor gave him bitter medicine and he didn't get well for a long time. In fact it was winter before he got out of the house again.
Now shouldn't you suppose that after all this the Rooster would never again disobey the little Hen? If only he had he would be alive to this day. Listen, now, to what happened:
One morning when he got up, he saw that ice was beginning to form on the river.