"Chip, chip, chip," sounded faintly from inside the eggs. And before the
sun climbed over the Big Gold Rooster, who swung on the weather-vane on the
barn, all the new little chickens had broken their eggs.

"How nice it is to be born!" they cheeped together in a merry chorus, as
they arrived in the wonderful world.

Very proud of her family was Mother Wyandotte when the little yellow balls
began to run about. A few days later she was prouder still when they
scampered this way and that, pecking at little bugs and ants. They worked
hard for their breakfasts and dinners and suppers.

Even Father Wyandotte, the great white rooster with the magnificent red
comb and curling white plumes on his tail, forgot that other rooster of
whom he was so jealous. For the rooster who was always perched on the
weather-vane on the barn was up so high and he shone like gold.

But now Father Wyandotte was not jealous. He walked around in his lordly
way, cocking his eye at his little yellow sons and daughters as they chased
the fat little bugs.

At first he would not say just how proud of them he was. He did not like to
tell all his feelings at once. Sometimes he thought fighting and crowing
better than being a family man. But all of a sudden he flew up on the
tallest fence-post he could find, and flapped his wings. He threw back his
head, opened his yellow beak, and crowed up at that gold rooster:

"Sure, sure, sure! You couldn't do it, you couldn't do it--couldn't do it,
do."