CHANTICLEER. 
147 
crow, first one, then two, then aJl, and stood con- 
fessed cockerels. Incidents like this, which are of 
frequent occurrence, serve to keep alive the exceed- 
ingly 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 establishment, I was 
not sorry to see the chickens develop 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 a dentist about to 
extract one of his own double-pronged eye-teeth, 
and setting his feet 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 encourage each other in the laborious process of 
tuning their harsh throats. Heard subsequently 
in the quiet of the early morning, these first tuning 
efforts suggested some reflections to my mind. 
