been twenty-three, but really Flaps was
in such a hurry for the news, and one must say something when it was
one's duty to make a report.

The three wise cocks objected to speak of themselves or their services,
but they had had some experience on behalf of the community in times of
danger, and in their opinion there had been a panic, and the hasty
action taken by Flaps was injudicious and regrettable.

The oldest hen of Hencastle shook her feathers to show how much Flaps
was in the wrong, and then puffed them out to show how much she was in
the right; and after clearing her throat almost as if she were going to
crow, she observed very shrilly that she "didn't care who contradicted
her when she said that the common sense of the Mother of a Family was
enough to tell _her_ that an old dog, who had lost an eye and an ear and
a leg, was no fit protector for the feminine and the young and the
inexperienced."

The chief cock was not so free of his opinions as the chief hen, but he
grumbled and scolded about everything, by which one may make matters
amply unpleasant without committing oneself or incurring responsibility.

Another of the hens made a point of having no opinion. She said that was
her way, she trusted everybody alike and bore her share of suffering,
which was seldom small, without a murmur. But her good wishes were
always at any one's service, and she would say that she sincerely hoped
that a sad injustice had not been done to the red-haired gentleman with
the singularly agreeable manners, who would have been gatekeeper of
Hencastle at this moment if it had not been for Flaps.

Poor Flaps! Well might he say, "One ear is enough to listen to you with,
you pack of ungrateful fools!"

He was beginning to find out that, as a rule, the Helpless have a nice
way with them of flinging all their cares upon the Helpful, and
reserving their own energies to pick holes in what is done on their
behalf; and that they are apt to flourish, in good health and poor
spirits, long after such friends as Flaps have been worn out, bit by
bit, in their service.

"First an eye, then an ear, then a leg," the old dog growled to himself;
"and there's not a fowl with a feather out of him. But I've done my
duty, and that's enough."

Matters went from bad to worse. The hens had no corn, and Flaps got no
eggs, and the prospect of either home or food seemed very remote. One
evening it was very rainy, the fowls roosted in a walnut-tree for