THE PROUD BANTAM.
By Clara Louise Burnham.
THERE lived a Bantam rooster on a farm not far away,So haughty and puffed up, as I have heard the neighbors say,That from morning until evening he would strut the country round,And crow aloud self-praises as he stepped along the ground:“I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo, my pedigree is fine,Oh, who can show as yellow claws or such a comb as mine?Where some have one tail feather, I am proudly waving two,And I have an extra doodle to my Cock-a-doodle-doo!”The other roosters in the barn-yard talked the matter o’er,The little upstart really was becoming quite a bore.At last a handsome game-cock volunteered to take the case;“It’s time,” he said, “the creature should be taught to know his place;It goes against the grain, my friends, to whip a thing so small,But since it’s for our peace of mind, why—duty first of all!”And hardly had these sentiments escaped the noble birdThan up came little Bantie with his haughty, scornful word.The handsome game-cock’s feathers glistened golden in the light;Loud cried the tiny rooster in his coat of snowy white,“Just step aside and let your betters pass, I’ll thank you, sirs!”“We’ve all a right here,” mild replied the owner of the spurs.Oh, then the Bantam tiptoed round: “What’s that I heard you say?I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo!”—ah! in the dust he lay.Above him stood the game-cock like a giant in his might,And round him all the other fowls rejoicing in his fright.And while he still lay, giddy, with his dainty claws in air,He was forced to hear a lecture from the other, then and there;And, greatly to the credit of the silly little bird,He changed his manner afterward and heeded every word.“My name is Cock-a-doodle Small,” he meekly learned to say,He minded his own business, nor got in others’ way.So in our world we sometimes find Grandissimos, and allWould do well to recall the fate of Cock-a-doodle Small.
THERE lived a Bantam rooster on a farm not far away,So haughty and puffed up, as I have heard the neighbors say,That from morning until evening he would strut the country round,And crow aloud self-praises as he stepped along the ground:“I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo, my pedigree is fine,Oh, who can show as yellow claws or such a comb as mine?Where some have one tail feather, I am proudly waving two,And I have an extra doodle to my Cock-a-doodle-doo!”The other roosters in the barn-yard talked the matter o’er,The little upstart really was becoming quite a bore.At last a handsome game-cock volunteered to take the case;“It’s time,” he said, “the creature should be taught to know his place;It goes against the grain, my friends, to whip a thing so small,But since it’s for our peace of mind, why—duty first of all!”And hardly had these sentiments escaped the noble birdThan up came little Bantie with his haughty, scornful word.The handsome game-cock’s feathers glistened golden in the light;Loud cried the tiny rooster in his coat of snowy white,“Just step aside and let your betters pass, I’ll thank you, sirs!”“We’ve all a right here,” mild replied the owner of the spurs.Oh, then the Bantam tiptoed round: “What’s that I heard you say?I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo!”—ah! in the dust he lay.Above him stood the game-cock like a giant in his might,And round him all the other fowls rejoicing in his fright.And while he still lay, giddy, with his dainty claws in air,He was forced to hear a lecture from the other, then and there;And, greatly to the credit of the silly little bird,He changed his manner afterward and heeded every word.“My name is Cock-a-doodle Small,” he meekly learned to say,He minded his own business, nor got in others’ way.So in our world we sometimes find Grandissimos, and allWould do well to recall the fate of Cock-a-doodle Small.
THERE lived a Bantam rooster on a farm not far away,So haughty and puffed up, as I have heard the neighbors say,That from morning until evening he would strut the country round,And crow aloud self-praises as he stepped along the ground:“I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo, my pedigree is fine,Oh, who can show as yellow claws or such a comb as mine?Where some have one tail feather, I am proudly waving two,And I have an extra doodle to my Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
THERE lived a Bantam rooster on a farm not far away,
So haughty and puffed up, as I have heard the neighbors say,
That from morning until evening he would strut the country round,
And crow aloud self-praises as he stepped along the ground:
“I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo, my pedigree is fine,
Oh, who can show as yellow claws or such a comb as mine?
Where some have one tail feather, I am proudly waving two,
And I have an extra doodle to my Cock-a-doodle-doo!”
The other roosters in the barn-yard talked the matter o’er,The little upstart really was becoming quite a bore.At last a handsome game-cock volunteered to take the case;“It’s time,” he said, “the creature should be taught to know his place;It goes against the grain, my friends, to whip a thing so small,But since it’s for our peace of mind, why—duty first of all!”And hardly had these sentiments escaped the noble birdThan up came little Bantie with his haughty, scornful word.
The other roosters in the barn-yard talked the matter o’er,
The little upstart really was becoming quite a bore.
At last a handsome game-cock volunteered to take the case;
“It’s time,” he said, “the creature should be taught to know his place;
It goes against the grain, my friends, to whip a thing so small,
But since it’s for our peace of mind, why—duty first of all!”
And hardly had these sentiments escaped the noble bird
Than up came little Bantie with his haughty, scornful word.
The handsome game-cock’s feathers glistened golden in the light;Loud cried the tiny rooster in his coat of snowy white,“Just step aside and let your betters pass, I’ll thank you, sirs!”“We’ve all a right here,” mild replied the owner of the spurs.Oh, then the Bantam tiptoed round: “What’s that I heard you say?I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo!”—ah! in the dust he lay.Above him stood the game-cock like a giant in his might,And round him all the other fowls rejoicing in his fright.
The handsome game-cock’s feathers glistened golden in the light;
Loud cried the tiny rooster in his coat of snowy white,
“Just step aside and let your betters pass, I’ll thank you, sirs!”
“We’ve all a right here,” mild replied the owner of the spurs.
Oh, then the Bantam tiptoed round: “What’s that I heard you say?
I’m Chanticleer Grandissimo!”—ah! in the dust he lay.
Above him stood the game-cock like a giant in his might,
And round him all the other fowls rejoicing in his fright.
And while he still lay, giddy, with his dainty claws in air,He was forced to hear a lecture from the other, then and there;And, greatly to the credit of the silly little bird,He changed his manner afterward and heeded every word.“My name is Cock-a-doodle Small,” he meekly learned to say,He minded his own business, nor got in others’ way.So in our world we sometimes find Grandissimos, and allWould do well to recall the fate of Cock-a-doodle Small.
And while he still lay, giddy, with his dainty claws in air,
He was forced to hear a lecture from the other, then and there;
And, greatly to the credit of the silly little bird,
He changed his manner afterward and heeded every word.
“My name is Cock-a-doodle Small,” he meekly learned to say,
He minded his own business, nor got in others’ way.
So in our world we sometimes find Grandissimos, and all
Would do well to recall the fate of Cock-a-doodle Small.
THERE is a young man with a cane,Whose thoughts are not fixed upon gain;For he says, “Don’t you see,It’s enough, just to beSucha young man with a cane!”
THERE is a young man with a cane,Whose thoughts are not fixed upon gain;For he says, “Don’t you see,It’s enough, just to beSucha young man with a cane!”
THERE is a young man with a cane,Whose thoughts are not fixed upon gain;For he says, “Don’t you see,It’s enough, just to beSucha young man with a cane!”
THERE is a young man with a cane,
Whose thoughts are not fixed upon gain;
For he says, “Don’t you see,
It’s enough, just to be
Sucha young man with a cane!”