224 BIRDS IN TOWN AND VILLAGE 



sponding to that in which, in the human species, 

 boy and girl begin to diverge, their tails grew 

 long, and they developed very fine red combs; 

 but the lady of the house, who had been promised 

 good layers when she bought the eggs clung tena- 

 ciously to the belief that long arching tails and 

 stately crests were ornaments common to both 

 sexes in this particular breed. By and by they 

 commenced to crow, first one, then two, then all, 

 and stood confessed cockerels. Incidents like this, 

 which are of frequent occurrence, serve to keep 

 alive the exceedingly ancient notion that the sex 

 of the future chick can be foretold from the shape 

 of the egg. As I had no personal interest in the 

 question of the future egg-supply of the estab- 

 lishment, I was not sorry to see the chickens de- 

 velop into cocks; what did interest me were their 

 first attempts at crowing — those grating sounds 

 which the young bird does not seem to emit, but 

 to wrench out with painful effort, as a plant is 

 wrenched out of the soil, and not without bringing 

 away portions of the lungs clinging to its roots. 

 The bird appears to know what is coming, like 

 an amateur dentist about to extract one of his 

 own double-pronged teeth, and setting his feet 



