CHANTICLEER 225 



firmly on the ground, and throwing himself well 

 back before an imaginary looking-glass, and with 

 arched-neck, wide-open beak, and rolling eyes, 

 courageously performs the horrible operation. 

 One cannot help thinking that a cockerel brought 

 up without any companions of his own sex and 

 age would not often crow, but in this instance 

 there were no fewer than ten of them to en- 

 courage each other in the laborious process of 

 tuning their harsh throats. Heard subsequently 

 in the quiet of the early morning, these first tun- 

 ing efforts suggested some reflections to my mind, 

 which may not prove entirely without interest to 

 fanciers who aim at something beyond a mere in- 

 crease in our food-supply in their selecting and 

 refining processes. 



To continue my narration. I woke in the 

 morning at my usual time, between three and four 

 o'clock, which is not my getting-up time, for, as 

 a rule, after half an hour or so I sleep again. 

 The waking is not voluntary as far as I know; 

 for although it may seem a contradiction in terms 

 to speak of coming at will out of a state of un- 

 consciousness, we do, in cases innumerable, wake 

 voluntarily, or at the desired time, not perhaps 



