were taken for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. But he did die at last;
and even then he was good and brave, as you shall hear.

One of the boys wanted to smoke a pipe, and went behind the hen-house, so
nobody should see him do such a silly thing. He thought he heard his
father coming, and hid the pipe under the house. Some straw and dry leaves
lay about, and took fire, setting the place in a blaze; for the boy ran
away when he saw the mischief he had done, and the fire got to burning
nicely before the cries of the poor hens called people to help. The door
was locked, and could not be opened, because the key was in the pocket of
the naughty boy; so the farmer got an axe and chopped down the wall,
letting the poor biddies fly out, squawking and smoking.

"Where is Cocky?" cried the other boy, as he counted the hens and missed
the king of the farmyard.

"Burnt up, I'm afraid," said the farmer, who was throwing water on the
flames.

Alas! yes, he was: for when the fire was out they found good old Cocky
sitting on a nest, with his wide wings spread over some little chicks
whose mother had left them. They were too small to run away, and sat
chirping sadly till Cocky covered and kept them safe, though the smoke
choked _him_ to death.

Every one was very sorry; and the children gave the good bird a fine
funeral, and buried him in the middle of the field, with a green mound
over him, and a white stone, on which was written,--

Here lies the bravest cock that ever crew: