A BARNYARD INCIDENT.
[TO THS EDITOR OF THE " SPHOTATOR.1
• our earliest brood of chickens last spring was one which grew up to be a bird of singular beauty. He was pure white, and from his stately dignity and general consciousness of his position, the children gave him the name of "Jupiter." He was recognised as an established authority by the sovereign power, and no one disputed his claims ; least of all, a bird his junior by a few weeks, which grew up with him, a parti-coloured fowl, of no recognised position in the community of poultry, living in a sort of contempt, or at best of toleration,—not even allowed a
• I read in my 'pariah churchyard" the following Inscription:" Pray for the soul of —. Jam, mercy! Mary, help
name by the children, but described by them when necessary in negatives, whom, then, I must call " Outis."
"Jupiter," as the year and his powers advanced, began to treat " 0 utis " with the greatest indignity, and contumely, which " Outis" bore with a quiet patience that perplexed me, as I began to notice his growing strength. But he dwelt apart, and never crowed ; " Jupiter " being particularly fond of crowing, and usually mounting a hurdle close to the drive for the purpose of exhibit- ing with greater effect. • At length, in the autumn, matters came to a crisis. There is a thick, dark fir-tree in the field assigned to the poultry, which, generations before any of the existing community were hatched, had been adopted as an universal roosting-place. One evening, after an increasing series of general eaubbings and insults, "Jupiter" thought proper to dispute the entrance of the name- less bird into the tree. Half-an-hour later, exhausted, covered with mud, and utterly forlorn, he was found lying on the ground beneath the tree, with " Outis" in undisputed possession above.
The defeat had been sudden, and it was complete. " Jupiter " has at last recovered the beauty of his plumage, but he lives alone, in worse exile than did his former rival. Ile has never crowed since his defeat, except—and I fear your readers, who know the beautiful old tradition, will hardly believe the excep- tion, which is true all the same—at sunset on Christmas Eve.
" Outis," in his place, crows constantly and loud; but I am often sorry to see.him use his now acknowledged superiority in a very, revengeful spirit, as if he remembered past days of his own suffer-, ing. pa these _occasions " Jupiter " is wont to appeal to the State for protection, and he invariably receives it from the- sovereign authority, an exceedingly powerful old bird, who settles matters, whenever he takes; the trouble, in a very summary way.
We are all very sorry for "Jupiter," whose general grace and culture naturally place him far above his rival, a bird of a some- what vulgar and common-place type, though physically strong. But he brought his discomfiture on himself, entirely by his own 'Opic of intolerant self-assertion.
If what I have written reads like an allegory, I cannot help it ; it is literal fact.—I am, Sir, &c., F. S. L.
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