ed about something that he
couldn't eat, and the night they had the Republican mass-meeting here
he roosted on the chandelier in the hall, and every time General
Trumps made a good point that chicken would cackle and flap his wings,
as much as to say, 'Them's my sentiments!' And on the day of the
parade he turned out and followed the last wagon, keeping step with
the music and never dropping out of line but once, when he stopped to
fight a Democratic rooster belonging to old Byerly, who was on the
Democratic ticket. And in the morning, after the Republicans won, he
just got on the fence out here and crowed so vociferously you could've
heard him across the river, particularly when I ran up the American
flag and read the latest returns.

"Yes, sir. Now, I know you'll think it's ridiculous when I tell you,
but it's an actual fact, that that very day my daughter was playing
the 'Star-spangled Banner' on the piano, and that rooster, when he
heard it, came scudding into the parlor, and after flipping up on the
piano he struck out and crowed that tune just as natural as if he was
an educated musician. Positive truth; and he beat time with his tail.
He don't crow like any other rooster. Every morning he works off
selections from Beethoven and Mozart and those people, and on Sundays
he frequently lets himself out on hymn-tunes. I've known him to set on
that fence for more'n an hour at a time practicing the scales, and he
nearly kicked another rooster to death one day because that rooster
crowed flat. I saw him do it myself. And now I really must be going.
Good-morning."

I think I shall send out and kill that rooster at the first
opportunity. I want Keyser to have one thing less to fib about. He has
too much variety at present.

CHAPTER XIX.

_AN UNRULY METER.--SCENES IN A SANCTUM_.

During one of the cold spells of last winter the gas-meter in my
cellar was frozen. I attempted to thaw it out by pouring hot water
over it, but after spending an hour upon the effort I emerged from the
contest with the meter with my feet and trousers wet, my hair full of
dust and cobwebs and my temper at fever heat. After studying how I
should get rid of the ice in the meter, I concluded to use force
for the purpose, and so, seizing a hot poker, I jammed it through
a vent-hole and stirred it around inside of the meter with a
considerable amount of vigor. I felt the ice give way, and I heard the
wheels buzz around with rather more veh