PEACOCK GOING TO ROOST. 45 



and, while he is hesitating " 'twixt the will 

 and deed," madame, his wife, comes along, 

 and, without any fuss, " takes the leap at her 

 full speed " and reaches the branch ; but he 

 still exhibits the most ludicrous indecision. 

 Pecking, or pretending to peck, round about, 

 he makes endless attempts to start ; he half 

 opens his wings, and then thinks better of it. 

 Thus have I watched him 



" Letting I dare not wait upon I would 

 Like the poor cat i' the adage " 



for more than half an hour at a time. His 

 courage is at length screwed up ; he seems to 

 think it must be done, but he cannot venture 

 to make a start from level ground. Like 

 Peter Wilkins's " Flying Woman," he always 

 selects a tree near a steep bank, off whose 

 edge he can launch himself with the least 

 chance of danger to his tail, and so, in the 

 uncertain hope of going up, but always with 

 the accompanying fear that he may go down, 

 away he goes at length, and, really, as he is 

 flying up, he has nothing to be ashamed of, 

 for his floating, rather than flying (when 

 once he gets off the ground), with his tail 

 partly spread out like a sail, is most grace- 

 ful. 



If he and his wife happen to be on a friendly 

 footing, he condescends to land himself be- 



