Grace and Willie named him Brownie, because all his brothers and sisters were white, and he was such a funny little brown puff-ball of a chicken.
Mrs. Speckle (that was his mother) was just as proud of him as she could be; but foolish Brownie thought her too strict. She would never consent to let one of the downy things out of her sight for a moment, and told them fearful stories of hawks and weasels, to say nothing of bad boys and big dogs.
But Brownie kept thinking that some day, when he was a little older and stronger, he would leave the yard, and see whether there were really such dangers in the fields and woods as his mother said there was.
After a while the pretty brown feathers all dropped out, one after another, until Brownie looked more like a chicken which had been plucked than any thing else. Grace could not keep from laughing at the sight of him; and it was very droll when he popped up on a log, and tried a weak, quavering crow.
To be sure, Mrs. Speckle did not keep a looking-glass, and I suppose poor Brownie had no idea how very absurd he looked. To tell the truth, he thought he was almost grown up, and began to watch for a chance to begin his journey to see the world. He had not the least doubt that he would see something fine, if he could only get out of the sight of his mother, who was so very strict, and had such foolish notions, as he thought.
So, one day, as Mrs. Speckle was having a friendly chat with Dame Top-Knot, he took the chance to creep slyly under the fence, and was off all alone.
"How silly mothers are! And such cowards too!" he said to himself. "I am sure there's nothing here to hurt me. I would like to see any one meddle with me!"
At this instant he felt a sharp peck; and a voice said close to his ear, "Halloo, little one, you had better start for home!"
He looked up, and saw young Green-Wing, who was two months older, and boasted a comb of good size, to say nothing of his sharp spurs.