fan
me a little with your wing, I shall have the strength to mount to
yonder white clouds which I see in the distance, where I shall receive
aid enough from my family to keep me alive till I gain fresh strength
from the next whirlwind."

"My lord," answered the spiteful Coquerico, "Your Excellency has more
than once amused himself by playing tricks at my expense. It is not a
week since your lordship glided like a traitor behind me and diverted
himself by opening my tail like a fan and covering me with confusion
in the face of nations. Have patience, therefore, my worthy friend;
mockers always have their turn; it does them good to repent and to
learn to respect those whose birth, wit, and beauty should screen them
from the jests of a fool." And Coquerico, bristling his plumage,
crowed three times in his shrillest voice and proudly strutted
onward.

A little farther on he came to a newly mown field where the farmers
had piled up the weeds in order to burn them. Coquerico approached a
smoking heap, hoping to find some stray kernels of corn, and saw a
little flame which was charring the green stalks without being able to
set them on fire.

"My good friend," cried the flame to the new-comer, "you are just in
time to save my life; I am dying for want of air. I cannot imagine
what has become of my cousin, the wind, who cares for nothing but his
own amusement. Bring me a few dry straws to rekindle my strength, and
you will not have obliged an ingrate."

"Wait a moment," said Coquerico, "and I will serve you as you deserve,
insolent fellow that dares ask my help!" And behold! he leaped on the
heap of dried weeds, and trampled it down till he smothered both flame
and smoke; after which he exultingly shouted three times,
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" and flapped his wings, as if he had done a great
deed.

Proudly strutting onward and crowing, Coquerico at last arrived at
Rome, the place to which all roads lead. Scarcely had he reached the
city when he hastened to the great Church of St. Peter. Grand and
beautiful as it was, he did not stop to admire it, but, planting
himself in front of the main entrance, where he looked like a fly
among the great columns, he raised himself on tiptoe and began to
shout, "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" only to enrage the saint and disobey his
mother.

He had not yet ended his song when one of the pope's guard, who
chanced to hear him, laid hands on the insolent wretch who dared thus
to insult the saint, and