and what became of flaps after they all left hencastle? well, he led his company on and on, but they could find no suitable place to settle in; and when the fowls recovered from their fright, they began to think that they had abandoned the castle too hastily, and to lay the blame on flaps.
mark himself said that he might have overestimated the number of the invaders. there might not have 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 shelter, and flaps fell asleep at the foot of it.
"could anything be more aggravating than that creature's indifference?" said hen no. 2. "here we sit, wet to the skin, and there he lies asleep! dear me! i remember one of my neck feathers got awry once, at dear old hencastle (the pencilling has been a good deal admired in my time, though i say it that shouldn't), and the red-haired gentleman noticed it in a moment. i remember he put his face as close to mine as i am to you, but in the most gentlemanly manner, and murmured so softly,
"'excuse me—there's just one of those lovely little feathers the least bit in the world—'
"i believe it was actually between his lips, when we were interrupted, and i had to put it tidy myself. but we might all be plucked as bare as poor young scratchfoot before flaps would think of smoothing us down. just hear how he snores! ah! it's a trying world, but i never complain."
"i do, though," said the chief hen. "i'm not one to put up with neglect. hi, there! are you asleep?" and scratching a bit of the rough bark off the walnut-tree, she let it drop on to flaps' nose.
"i'm awake," said flaps; "what's the matter?"
"i never knew any one snore when he was awake before," said the hen; and all the young cockerels chuckled.
"well, i believe i was napping," said flaps. "damp weather always makes me sleepy, and i was dreaming of the old farmyard."
"poor old farm!" sighed hen no. 2. "we had board and lodging there, at any rate."
"and now we've neither," said hen no. 1. "mr. flaps, do you know that we're wet to the skin, and dying of starvation, whilst you put your nose into your great-coat pocket and go to sleep?"
"you're right," said flaps. "something must be done this evening. but i see no use in taking the whole community about in the rain. we will send out another expedition."
"cock-a-doodle-doo!" screamed the three wise ones; "that means that we're to face the storm whilst you have another nap, eh?"
"it seems an odd thing," said the chief cock, scratching his comb with his claw, "that flaps never thinks of going himself on these expeditions."
"you're right," said flaps. "it is an odd thing, for times out of mind i've heard our old friend, the farmer, say, 'if you want a thing done—go; if not—send.' this time i shall go. cuddle close to each other, and keep up your spirits. i'll find us a good home yet."
the fowls were much affected by flaps' magnanimity, and with one voice they cried: "thank you, dear flaps. whatever you decide upon will do for us."
and mark added, "i will continue to act as watchman." and he went up to the top of the tree as flaps trotted off down the muddy road.
all that evening and far into the night it rained and rained, and the fowls cuddled close to each other to keep warm, and flaps did not return. in the small hours of the morning the rain ceased, and the rain-clouds drifted away, and the night-sky faded and faded till it was dawn.
"cock-a-doodle-doo!" said mark, and all the fowls woke up.
"what do you see and hear from the tree-top, dear mark?" said they. "is flaps coming?"
"not a thing can i see
from the top of the tree,
but a long, winding lane
that is sloppy with rain;"
replied mark. and the fowls huddled together again, and put their heads back under their wings.
paler and paler grew the grey sky, and at last it was broken with golden bars, and at the first red streak that caught fire behind them, mark crowed louder than before, and all the hens of hencastle roused up for good.
"what do you see and hear from the tree-top, dear mark?" they inquired. "is flaps coming?"
"not a sound do i hear,
and i very much fear
that flaps, out of spite,
has deserted us quite;"
replied mark. and the fowls said nothing, for they were by no means at ease in their consciences.
their delight was proportionably great when, a few minutes later, the sentinel sang out from his post,
"here comes flaps, like the mail!
and he's waving his tail."
"well, dear, dear flaps!" they all cackled as he came trotting up, "where is our new home, and what is it like?"
"will there be plenty to eat?" asked the cocks with one crow.
"plenty," replied flaps.
"shall we be safe from mice, owls, wild beasts, and wild men?" cried the hens.
"you will," answered flaps.
"is it far, dear flaps?"
"it is very near," said flaps; "but i may as well tell you the truth at once—it's a farmyard."
"oh!—" said all the fowls.
"we may be roasted, or have our heads chopped off," whimpered the young cockerels.
"well, scratchfoot was roasted at hencastle," said flaps; "and he wasn't our only loss. one can't have everything in this world; and i assure you, if you could see the poultry-yard—so dry under foot, nicely wired in from marauders; the most charming nests, with fresh hay in them; drinking-troughs; and then at regular intervals, such abundance of corn, mashed potatoes, and bones, that my own mouth watered at—are served out—"
"that sounds good," said the young cockerels.
"ahem! ahem!" said the chief cock. "did you see anything very remarkable—were the specimens of my race much superior in strength and good looks?——"
"my dear cock!" said flaps; "there's not a tail or a comb or a hackle to touch you. you'll be cock of the walk in no time."
"ahem! ahem!" said the chief cock modestly. "i have always had a sort of fatality that way. pray, my dears, don't look so foolish and deplorable, but get the young people together, and let us make a start. mr. flaps is a person of strong common sense, a quality for which i myself have always been remarkable, and i thoroughly endorse and support his excellent advice, of which i am the best judge. i have very much regretted of late to observe a tendency in this family (i say a tendency, for i hope it goes no further) to undervalue mr. flaps, and even (i hardly like to allude to such reprehensible and disgusting absurdity) to recall the memory of a vulgar red-haired impostor, who gained a brief entrance into our family circle. i am not consulted as i should be in these fluctuations of opinion, but there are occasions when it is necessary that the head of a family should exercise his discretion and his authority, and, so to speak, put down his claw. i put down my claw. we are going to mr. flaps' farmyard. cock-a-doodle-doo cock-a-doodle-doo!"
now, when the head of a family says "cock-a-doodle-doo!" there is nothing more to be said. so to the farmyard the whole lot of them went, and were there before the sun got one golden hair of his head over the roof of the big barn.
and only mark, as they all crowded into their new home, turned his head round over his back to say: "and you, flaps; what shall you do?"
"oh, i shall be all right," said flaps. "good-bye and good luck to you."
it cannot be said that flaps was positively in high spirits when he had settled his protégés in their new home in the farmyard, and was left alone; but there are some good folk who contrive to make duty do the work of pleasure in this life, and then a piece of business fairly finished is as good as a treat.
it is not bread and bones, however, and flaps was very hungry—so hungry that he could not resist the temptation to make his way towards the farmhouse, on the chance of picking up some scraps outside. and that was how it came about, that when the farmer's little daughter daisy, with a face like the rosy side of a white-heart cherry set deep in a lilac print hood, came back from going with the dairy lass to fetch up the cows, she found flaps snuffing at the back door, and she put her arms round his neck (they reached right round with a little squeezing) and said:
"oh, i never knew you'd be here so early! you nice thing!"
and flaps' nose went right into the print hood, and he put out his tongue and licked daisy's face from the point of her chin up her right cheek to her forehead, and then from her forehead down her left cheek back to her chin, and he found that she was a very nice thing too.
but the dairymaid screamed, "good gracious! where did that nasty strange dog come from? leave him alone, miss daisy, or he'll bite your nose off."
"he won't!" said daisy indignantly. "he's the dog daddy promised me;" and the farmer coming out at that minute, she ran up to him crying, "daddy! isn't this my dog?"
"bless the child, no!" said the farmer; "it's a nice little pup i'm going to give thee. where did that dirty old brute come from?"
"he would wash," said little daisy, holding very fast to flaps' coat.
"fine washing too!" said the dairymaid, "and his hair's all lugs."
"i could comb them," said daisy.
"he's no but got one eye," said the swineherd. "haw! haw! haw!"
"he sees me with the other," said daisy. "he's looking up at me now."
"and one of his ears gone!" cried the dairy lass. "he! he! he!"
"perhaps i could make him a cap," said daisy, "as i did when my doll lost her wig. it had pink ribbons and looked very nice."
"why, he's lame of a leg," guffawed the two farming-men. "see, missy, he hirples on three."
"i can't run very fast," said daisy, "and when i'm old enough to, perhaps his leg will be well."
"why, you don't want this old thing for a play-fellow, child?" said the farmer.
"i do! i do!" wept daisy.
"but why, in the name of whims and whamsies?"
"because i love him," said daisy.
when it comes to this with the heart, argument is wasted on the head; but the farmer-went on: "why he's neither useful nor ornamental. he's been a good dog in his day, i dare say; but now—"
at this moment flaps threw his head up in the air and sniffed, and his one eye glared, and he set his teeth and growled.
he smelt the gipsy, and the gipsy's black pipe, and every hair stood on end with rage.
"the dog's mad!" cried the swineherd, seizing a pitchfork.
"you're a fool," said the farmer (who wasn't). "there's some one behind that haystack, and the old watch-dog's back is up. see! there he runs; and as i'm a sinner, it's that black rascal who was loitering round, the day my ricks were fired, and you lads let him slip. off after him, for i fancy i see smoke." and the farmer flew to his haystacks.
hungry and tired as he was, flaps would have pursued his old enemy, but daisy would not let him go. she took him by the ear and led him indoors to breakfast instead. she had a large basin of bread-and-milk, and she divided this into two portions, and gave one to flaps and kept the other for herself. and as she says she loves flaps, i leave you to guess who got most bread-and-milk.
that was how the gipsy came to live for a time in the county gaol, where he made mouse-traps rather nicely for the good of the rate-payers.
and that was how flaps, who had cared so well for others, was well cared for himself, and lived happily to the end of his days.
"why, it's in print!" said father cock; "and i said as plain as any cock could crow, that it was a secret. now, who let it out?"
"don't talk to me about secrets," said the fair foreigner; "i never trouble my head about such things."
"some people are very fond of drawing attention to their heads," said the common hen; "and if other people didn't think more of a great unnatural-looking chignon than of all the domestic virtues put together, they might have their confidences respected."
"i's* all very well," said father cock, "but you're all alike. there's not a hen can know a secret without going and telling it."
"well, come!" said a little bantam hen, who had newly arrived; "whichever hen told it, the cock must have told it first."
"what's that ridiculous nonsense your talking?" cried the cock; and he ran at her and pecked her well with his beak.
"oh! oh! oh!" cried the bantam.
dab, dab, dab, pecked the cock.
"now! has anybody else got anything to say on the subject?"
but nobody had. so he flew up on to the wall, and cried "cock-a-doodle-doo!"
